X Wheel of Fortune
by lovewinter
Summary: Interlude three-It's Vivian's time.-Set after 7x24 Undertow. Where are they going from here? My fictional season 7.5
1. XWheel of Fortune: Prologue

Title: **X - Wheel of Fortune**  
Rating: T  
Timeline: set after "Undertow"  
Summary: Where are they going from here? ;)

Disclaimer: All the copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events, are the properties of their respective owners. I'm just playing with them! Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be in any way factual. ^_^ I felt as I should be a bit longer than usual because there will be many "outside references".

**A/N**: This is my fictional season "7.5". You'll find here a bit of everything. I think everyone who liked the show can read this fic, but I have to warn you, there is JS. There will be "interludes" between the "episodes" full of personal stuff, but you'll be able to skip them and still understand the story. I haven't finished to write the story yet, but I'm starting posting it anyway. This a big project - my attempt to a short WAT season. There will be several episodes, each of them made of 4 chapters (more or less). I hope you'll like this. If you have any questions, ask away.

Even this time around Diane and Sharon helped me to write this -- thanks girls! I'd be lost without you two! You're always willing to waste your time going through my writing and you make it a lot better. ;) Special thanks to Irene and Ruth--I'm sure I gave you nightmares! Despite this you never let me down. Thank you!

I've been longer than usual, I'm sorry, but, I promise, I'm not going to repeat this!  
Buona lettura! :)

* * *

**X - Wheel of Fortune**

Prologue

_Wednesday 20 May 2009, 11 PM  
Coney Island, NY_

A young couple were enjoying the warm night walking down the long boardwalk by the seaside. It was not crowded like in the middle of the summer, but music and voices filled the air. People were working hard to set everything up for the big opening of the summer season, traditionally set during Memorial Day weekend.

Walking down the seaside the couple admired the _Cyclone_ – the big wheel, Coney Island's symbol. Its lights were on, just as it was the last rehearsal before the great opening. The two people were walking close to each other. The young man had his arm around the girl's shoulders. Suddenly the girl stopped and stretched out an arm, indicating one of the little shops along the street. She started jumping in excitement.

"Look! A psychic! Shall we go in and have a '_reading'_?"

The young man's expression was doubtful.

"Let's go, please. It's funny! I always did it with my best friend back at home. There was a fortune teller at the spring fair and we always fantasized and laughed about boys..." She was a little girl again. Her eyes lit up at the memories of such happy days.

"You know I hate these things." He tried to resist his partner's contagious excitement, but he knew deep inside he would give in. He loved too much seeing the little girl in her come out and enjoy the little things.

"_Please_…," the girl's pleading eyes were on him. "Just this time. I'll never ask you again." She was smiling – looking at him, she realized she had won. She took his hand and led him inside.

A pungent smell of incense surrounded the couple as soon as they worked their way through a beaded curtain. The room was small and dark, although a few lit candles added to the atmosphere. Old and shady drapes were all over the walls, and a crimson oversized cloth covered the small table. Several talismans and a crystal ball were in view on the counter. A framed mirror returned a confused reflection. Everything was studied to convey a sinister sense of mystery.

"Good evening, I'm Alice." A woman suddenly greeted them, but there was no smile on her face. She took a quick look at them and then added, "I guess you want a reading."

The girl was going to answer when the psychic spoke again, "Would you like to take a seat, please?"

They sat at the other side of the small table and waited for the woman's instructions.  
The psychic shuffled the tarot cards. Then she put the deck on the small table, nudging the couple to cut it. She laid out the cards on the table, drawing a fan. "Please, pick up three cards and hand me each one without turning it."

The girl was going to pick up her third tarot when the psychic stopped her and nodded to the man to pick it up instead. When the card touched the woman's hand, a sudden shiver went down her spine and a horrible scene flashed in her mind_. A young girl was tied up on what seemed like a camp bed. She was petrified and you could read terror in her eyes. She had been beaten and dried blood was on her body._ The psychic tried to hide her shock as best as she could. But she knew that the man had noticed her reaction. She quickly looked for an apt phrase – one of those phrases people would expect from a tarot reader. Then she gave them a quick reading full of cliché. She took the money that the happy girl gave her, without even looking at the man with her, and escorted them to the door. She closed it behind them – they would be her last clients for the night. When she was sure they were gone, she leaned against the counter, took deep breaths, and looked at her own confused reflection in the mirror. _What the hell was that?_

**---***---**

_Thursday 21 May 2009, 6:30 PM __  
__FBI Headquarter --__ NY_

Jack Malone checked for the last time the report he would hand to his superiors. It was complete. Danny Taylor and Elena Delgado, no Elena Taylor now, had sent their reports in that morning before leaving for their short honeymoon to the Niagara Falls. He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. His team would be two agents short for a week, and it would lose an element permanently starting the following week, since a married couple could not work in the same unit. He asked for a new agent, but with the economic crisis and the counter-terrorism alert, he knew looking for missing persons was not one of the Bureau's priorities. Maybe, he could manage swapping Elena with an agent from Andrew's team until she would get her transfer.

Through the glasses he could see "his team" -- Vivian Johnson, Samantha Spade and Martin Fitzgerald -- heading out. They were laughing, probably joking about their just married co-workers. Just a couple of years earlier his team would have ended a day like that drinking something together, toasting to the future. Just some weeks before, he and Samantha would have ended a day like that with at least a dinner together. Now he was alone in his office – _when had things started to change? – _He sighed, then put his glasses in his pocket and collected his things. He had to head out – his daughter Hanna was waiting for him at home.

Hanna had agreed to stay with him in New York for the summer and give their father-daughter relationship another chance. He had three months ahead of him to convince his daughter to not go back to Chicago. And he was determined to be successful. He had already given up his relationship with Samantha,_ …was it going anywhere else than to failure anyway?... _And now he had to keep his work out of his private life and let his co-workers "swim alone". Early that day Samantha had asked him why he didn't consider taking his daughters on a trip during the summer. _Would Hanna and Kate be happy with it? _He wondered if it could be a good idea.

He was walking down the corridor when the phone in his office rang. Jack hesitated. _Should he go back and answer?_ He usually didn't have to think twice, but Hanna had already called three times – she wanted to be sure he would be home in time. She had made a surprise dinner for him. Jack kept walking toward the elevator – _there always was a point to start from, right? _

*******

_Thursday 21 May 2009, 6:40 PM  
FBI Headquarter __-- NY_

A young agent was talking with a woman at the entrance.

"I'm sorry, Madam, but Agent Malone has already headed out. I'll leave him a message. Mrs. Alice Bernsen, right? Should I write anything else?"

"No, thank you. Let him know I'll come back. I need to talk with him about a missing person case he could have worked on." The woman thanked the agent and headed out.

The agent followed the woman with his eyes until she vanished around the corner.


	2. Ep One: The Little Prince, part 1

The Little Prince: Chapter One

_Friday 22 May 2009, 1:45 PM  
__FBI Headquarters, NY_

Jack entered the break room and found Vivian brewing coffee. "Hey, Viv."

"A cup of coffee?" Vivian's warm smile greeted him. She knew what had happened, even if nobody had told her. At an intimate setting like Elena and Danny's marriage was, she noticed there was something different between Jack and Sam.  
When Samantha had let slip her new rekindled relationship with Jack some months before, Vivian had decided to stay out of it. But she was not surprised it had not worked out. _Their timing had never been right._

"Thanks," he said as he foraged for coins in his pocket.

"How is Hanna?" Vivian asked as she poured the coffee into two mugs.

"Fine, and, surprisingly, things seem smoother between us now." Jack kept looking at the vending machine, scanning it to find something more appealing than the full sugar or chocolate-covered donuts. At last he chose a _'Snack Mix'_. He pushed the button, but nothing came out.

"She's a teenager. You have to be patient for both of you," Vivian said while she held out the coffee to Jack.

"Patience is my middle name!" he said, sipping his coffee as he kept pushing the button. He stared at a spot on the machine with peering eyes, and then he smacked it. Both the Snack Mix and his coins came out.

Vivian smiled her appreciation and added, "Your talents are unlimited."

"My college years weren't wasted on studies." He opened the snack wrapping and started removing its contents. He studied one of those yellow crackers shaped like a gold fish as if he had just discovered a new animal species. He smelled it and immediately stuck his nose up. "What are these horrible things?"

Vivian, who was looking at him amused, rolled her eyes. "It's food, Jack. Just shut up and eat it!"

Just then Martin appeared in the doorway. He was looking for Jack. "Jack, Olczyk is in your office. He wants to speak to you."

Jack took the last sip from his coffee before laying the mug on the counter and, heading out, he handed Martin the snack, saying, "Here, you'll like these. They are very healthy."

Vivian lifted her hands palm out, conveying her ignoranceat Martin's confused expression.

Half an hour later Jack approached the conference table in the bullpen, where the remaining three members of the team were sitting. He dropped on the table a photo and a couple of files. Then, taking a seat at the table, started, "Ann Marie Krajcek, alias Vanessa Thomson, alias Crystal Moon, alias '_you know what else' _has been found dead this morning in one of those dilapidated hotels in South Bronx."

Everyone at the table looked quizzically at their boss. _They weren't Homicide, were they?_

Vivian took the lead and voiced what everyone was thinking, "And we were called… why?"

Jack rubbed his forehead and sighed, "The '_hotel manager'_ said she had a child with her. But there are no signs of a child in the room and the security camera was off, so no footage. We only have his word and his description of the child. And from what I heard from the detective I spoke to, he is not very reliable." Jack took a sketch from a folder and looked at it before handing it to Martin. "The child should be four or five years old, white, brown hair, no idea of his eyes. The manager just noticed he was very quiet."

"What are we going to do? Will we treat this as any other case?" Martin asked, wondering what would have been the best way of action.

"NYPD has checked the surroundings. At this point we are not even sure if this child was really with her or if he was there when the crime happened. There are a couple drugstores and a donut shop near the hotel, so maybe he was captured by their cameras. We'll have to check. First we have to find out _if _he is before we can find out _who _and _where_ he is. There is no report of a kidnapping or even a disappearance of a child this age in the entire state. We'll send the sketch to every FBI office in the country."

Then, looking at his agents, Jack gave them their tasks.

"Martin, check the footages and try to capture a photo of this child." Jack turned toward the two female agents, hesitated a moment, then said, "Viv, check with the NYPD and get a copy of the woman's file. Go through it and see ifthere are any reasons she could have a child with her – a pregnancy, a relative, anything. Sam, you are with me; let's go to the hotel and talk to the manager. Detective Williams is waiting for us there."

Vivian's head lifted as soon as she heard her brother's name.

Jack lifted his eyebrow, "Problems?"

"No, it's okay."

"Fine. Let's get started." Jack turned and followed Samantha toward the elevators.

Vivian turned slowly toward her desk. It was years that she and her brother didn't talk to each other apart from the traditional Christmas wishes, and even those were usually done through their spouses. They hadn't shared the same room since their father's death. Marcus and her brother's wife had tried for years to make them settle their differences before giving in. _They just couldn't understand._

_South Bronx, NY_

Jack and Samantha got out of the car. The building in front of them was decayed like everything around it. They passed a basketball field enclosed by a wire netting full of holes. Some school-age boys were playing there, heedless of the police. The hotel entrance was in an alley between two old damaged buildings. An explicit mural was painted on the wall that left no guesswork about what happened in the rooms there.

"Fine modern art! They should include this building into the New York tours for tourists," Jack said, glancing at the painted wall.

Those were Jack's first words since they had left the office. Samantha had thought it would be awkward between them, but he was trying his best to make things as smooth as possible. _She had to give him credit for that._ What worried her was what was boiling _under the surface_. She wasn't sure she was okay with their situation. She really wasn't. Instead he seemed at ease. _Too much at ease? Was he trying to hide his feelings? Or instead did he deem it was definitely over between them? _Samantha shook off the thought – this wasn't the right moment to mull these questions over. She looked at the surroundings and stated, "This woman had to be really desperate to bring a child here."

Jack nodded and, approaching the entrance, went first.

"No wonder the guy doesn't remember anything!" Samantha said, covering her mouth and nose, "I can smell the alcohol from here." She looked a bit queasy.

Jack talked before he was aware of it, "What is it? Are you pregnant again? Brian and you don't waste your time!" He smiled and, stopping in the doorway, kept the door open for her.

Samantha glared at him and, without answering back, headed toward the cubicle where a man was violently coughing. _What the hell was that? A bad joke, hopefully._

Jack shook his head and followed Sam. What had started as a joke to loosen the tension between them quickly changed in his mind. A sense of jealousy pervaded him; the words came out without his control. Jack wondered what made him think that it would be less complicated this time around - nothing between them had ever been easy.

The two agents approached the man. Jack presented his credentials and started asking questions. Apparently the man didn't remember anything useful.

"Are you sure she never called him by name?" Jack asked him again.

The man shook his head.

"Have you ever heard the boy call her? Was he frightened? How did he behave?" Jack continued.

"I don't know. It was just a kid." The man shrugged and brought to his mouth the cigarette he had left in the ashtray.

"We are not _the police_. We are not interested in what happens here, okay?" Samantha tried a different approach.

He nodded taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

"So, have you ever seen the woman before?" Samantha asked when she had the man's full attention.

"Yeah, she has been a usual client for months. She came here with her clients a couple hours a day. But it had been some time since she rented a room here. I thought she had been busted or had changed zones to avoid it. Then she showed up last night with the kid."

"Do you know where she lived?" Samantha continued.

"Not my business. I make them pay first thing when they rent the room. No questions asked. This is why I'm still alive and in business." He put out the cigarette and added it to the several butts already in the ashtray. Samantha backed away just in time to avoid the man coughing in her face as a new violent crisis hit him.

Sam and Jack shared a look-it was all they would get from him, at least for the moment. Jack handed his card to the man, telling him to call if anything came up and turning to go away, he added, "I'd stop smoking if I were you, sir."

Detective Williams was in the corridor, waiting for them. He didn't like to work with '_the Feds_' and didn't do anything to hide it. His lieutenant called them and he hadn't understood why. They had always solved their cases on their own. What made this case so special?

Jack flashed his badge and said, "Special Agents Malone and Spade."

The policeman nodded, "Detective Williams. The room is over there."

He led the way down the corridor and stopped in front of room 118. He took a quick look at the two FBI agents. The blond woman had her hands tight in her pockets. He noticed that she had been careful to not touch anything. _She didn't want to dirty her high couture suit._ "Sorry, for the lack of décor. Not quite up to Manhattan standards." His tone was contemptuous. Then, turning to the policemen still working on the scene, he said, "Guys, could you give '_our guests_' a minute?"

Jack and Samantha didn't pay any attention to the irony in Detective Williams' words. They stopped in the doorway and looked around the room. The bed was unmade. There was a small suitcase open on a chair next to the bathroom door. The window pain was broken and glass was shattered on the floor. Large sprays of blood on the wall and stains on the floor indicated where the woman had been killed. They could imagine the scene. She was probably in the bed sleeping when the killer had broken in. The noise of broken glass had suddenly wakened her. She saw the killer and probably tried to escape toward the door. The killer jumped on the bed and grabbed her. There were two clear footprints on the sheets and the bedside table was knocked over.

"Nobody heard her scream. Everything probably happened in a few seconds. The killer attacked her from behind and cut her throat with a sharp knife. The cut was neat, done from left to right. The medical examiner said the killer had to be at least three inches taller than she. Considering height and strength, it was probably a man. The killer knew what he was doing."

"Okay." Then, looking around the room again, Jack asked, "What about the child?"

"There's no evidence. There is only a little bloodstain near the window." Detective Williams headed toward the window to show the FBI agents the stain on the windowsill. Then he added, "But without anything to compare it with, we'll need time."

Samantha bent down to take a better look at the stain. It didn't seem a drop. Looking backward, she found a tiny bloodied piece of glass. It was among the others on the floor. _And what if the little boy had been barefoot? _

"Jack? Take a look here. Maybe the kid cut his foot. The blood could be his."

_FBI Headquarters, NY_

Martin was in the office checking the footage he had taken from the drugstores. He was scanning the images, looking for a woman and a child. His work was finally awarded when the Ann Marie Krajcek appeared on the screen. She held a child by the hand and he had a small backpack on his shoulder. He felt a shiver rising up his spine. The little boy was with her, and they were going toward the hotel. He took note of the time: 7 PM. Then he attentively watched the other security tapes, looking for the same boy, hoping to see him again.

On the way back to her desk, Vivian dropped by Martin's desk with a cup of coffee and asked, "Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah, take a look here." He handed her the still image printout. Then, taking the coffee, he thanked Vivian.

"So, I guess we have a '_real_' case. Have you already called Jack?" Vivian asked as she recognized the woman in the photo.

"No, I'd hoped the child was safe somewhere and not with her."

Vivian nodded. She leaned sympathetically a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I think it's not the case. I'll call Jack."

Vivian headed toward her desk. She took the folder where she took note of everything useful she found in the woman's dossier and dialled Jack's cell phone number.

Jack and Samantha had just got in the car when Jack's phone rang.

"Hey, Viv," he answered, after looking at the caller ID.

"_Martin found a still image of the child. I looked through the woman's file, but nothing caught my attention. There is no evidence she has ever been pregnant. She was from Kentucky and she has no relatives here. I have no idea who the child could be._"

"Okay. Give me the woman's address and send us a photo of the kid. I want a complete background check on this woman. She is the only thing we have at the moment."

_Ann Marie Krajcek's apartment - 4:00 PM_

"Didn't we have to let Detective Williams know we were coming here?" Samantha asked Jack as they were waiting for the key from the super to enter the woman's apartment.

"The case is officially ours now," Jack stated.

"Okay." Then, looking at the long corridor full of doors, she added, "I'll check to see if her neighbors know something."

Jack nodded. As Samantha headed toward the end of the corridor, the super arrived with the key and opened the door.

"Thank you. I'll give it to the police as soon as we are done here." Jack went in and closed the door behind him.

Drapes, pillows and ornaments revealed without any doubt that a woman lived there. There were a few messages on the answering machine. Nothing seemed out of place in the living room. Jack went to the bedroom and things changed there. The bed was unmade and closet and drawers were not properly closed. There were hangers on the floor. _Someone was in a hurry to leave. _On the bedside table there was a fairy tale book. Jack went back to the living room. Looking around, he saw a stuffed dog hidden behind one of the pillows on the couch. It didn't seem like a kid lived there, but a child occasionally visited. _The kid was not hers and she hasn't taken care of him for a long time – a couple days at most._ Jack went back to the answering machine and listened to the messages, five of them. Nothing relevant, just friends looking for her. _She'd been out since Thursday morning._

In the meantime Samantha was knocking on the doors down the corridor. Everyone told her the woman was nice and quiet. She moved in only six months before. When Samantha was talking to a Mr. Turner, she received a message from the office. It was the photo of the child, which she showed to Mr. Turner.

"Do you recognise this child?"

"Let me get my glasses. Please, come in." The old man led the way to the kitchen. He put on his glasses and took a better look at the photo. "It's Davey!" Mr. Turner looked at Samantha. "It's Dave Winters. He lives with his father in 3B."


	3. Ep One: The Little Prince, part 2

The Little Prince: Chapter Two

_FBI Headquarters, NY -- 5:00 PM_

Jack and Samantha got off the elevator and walked down the corridor to the bullpen, still talking about what they had just seen.

"You go in a place like that if you are homeless or you want to hide. We know she wasn't homeless, so from what or whom was she hiding?" Samantha asked. Then, sharing a last look with her boss, she headed toward her desk. _There was something missing._

Jack sighed, and then approaching Martin's desk, he asked, "Any news about the father? Did you find him?"

"Nothing so far. He works for Express Cleaning Service, Inc. No criminal records. No cell phones and no car registered under his name."

Jack took a seat at the small conference table, rubbed his forehead and then he leaned back on the chair. "Okay," he started, "let's sum up what we know."

"We have a dead woman in a hotel room and a missing child. We just know they lived near each other and that Ann Marie Krajcek was in some way close to Jeremy Winters, the child's father," Martin started, looking at the board where a black and white blurred photo of Dave Winters, five years old, asked for attention.

"The door was locked from the inside. The window was too high for a child to reach. And there was glass everywhere," Samantha said, and then, thinking again to the scene, added, "If he went out through the window without help, we should have found more than just a little bloodstain – the killer took Dave with him."

"We assume he wanted to kill the woman, so why take the child? He could have just left him there, or killed him too," Vivian asked.

"He couldn't leave the boy there because Dave was a witness," Martin stated.

"And what if the father is the killer?" Vivian said, turning to her colleagues.

"Maybe the father was abusing the boy and the woman was trying to take him away from his father," Martin guessed.

"There is no evidence of that. He has been described as a loving father. And even if that was the case, why didn't she go to the police instead of that squalid place?" Samantha said.

"She had problems with the law in her past, or maybe she knew how social services work and didn't want the child _in the system_," Vivian stated.

"And what if the killer wanted to take Dave instead, and had to kill the woman to get him?" Samantha felt there was something missing. _If a man could kill a woman in cold blood, he would have no problem killing the child too._ _His goal had to be different. But what?_

Jack had been silent until then. He was lost in his own thoughts and was watching and listening to his team. _After all they had been through, two OPR investigations and even more personal crisis, they still worked with the same fervor and enthusiasm that they always had. And, they did it in spite of his mistakes and shortcomings._ "What did her neighbors tell you about her relationship with Winters?" he finally asked.

"One of their neighbors told me she often looked after Dave and some thought Winters and she were growing closer. They were seen taking the boy out several times, almost like a family. They seemed happy together and Davey was happier since she had appeared in their lives." Then, after a quick look at her notes, Sam continued, "Davey lost his mother three years ago; she died of cancer. His father tried his best, worked as much as he could, but her illness had drained their savings and money had been an issue since then."

"Viv, did you find anything useful on Ann Marie Krajcek?" Jack asked.

"She picked up a new identity six months ago and started a _new life_. I have no idea what or who prompted her decision. She worked as a waitress in a diner on Fremont. She had told her employer she was new in town. She had a sister in Belmont, Oregon. I'm still trying to reach her. I'll interview one of Krajcek's friends as soon as we finish here; NYPD is _entertaining_ her."

"Perfect! Back to square one. We have to find Winters. Martin come with me, I'm going to pay a visit to Winters' employer. Sam, keep looking and stay in contact with NYPD. Pull strings if necessary." Jack shared a quick look with his female colleagues and added, "I'm sure Detective Williams and his squad will be _'fully cooperative'_."

***

_Express Cleaning Service, Inc. -- 110 East 19th Street, NY _

Jack and Martin were sitting on the opposite side from Mr. Farinelli's desk. Winters' employer was an overweight middle age man. As Martin filled the employer in, Jack watched Mr. Farinelli's body language, trying to gauge his involvement.

"Do you know if Mr. Winters has any financial problems?" Jack asked.

"He asked for a double shift and I gave him as many hours as I could, but… you know, union rules! We all know he has financial trouble; he is always short on money. Money is an issue for most of my employees, but after his wife's illness he was almost desperate. Medical bills dried his finances, he was in debt. I helped him look for a second job."

"Can you tell us where else he is working?" Martin asked.

"As warehouseman at Century 21 Department Store in Brooklyn on 86th Street. He told me he works there on Tuesday and Friday mornings. That's all. I don't know what he might do off the books. I never asked."

"Okay." Martin took note of the new information and then asked, "Does Mr. Winters have a regular schedule? Does he always work at the same places?"

"He usually works at the Supreme Court's offices on Center Street. He starts at 6 PM, but he didn't show up yesterday and didn't call."

"Thank you, Mr. Farinelli. Just a last thing, we're going to need a list of all employees on his shift," Jack said.

"Sure." He escorted them to his secretary and asked her to give them the list.

***

_43rd Precinct, Bronx -- NY_

Vivian approached the entrance of the 43rd Precinct. She knew it could happen sooner or later, and now it had. She apprehensively entered the building with dread. Her worst nightmare had come to pass. She would be working on a case with her brother, a New York detective.

An agent escorted her to the interview room. Detective Williams was waiting for her outside the room, reading the preliminary reports about the analysis of the crime scene.

"Steven," Vivian said, nodding at her brother.

"Vivian! To what do I owe this honor?" Detective Williams didn't hide his surprise. "I thought '_Blondie_' was working the case. What happened? Did you draw the short straw?"

Vivian ignored her brother's snarky remark and said, "I'm here to see Miss Peters. Let's not waste each other's time."

They entered the interview room and took a seat at the table. Vivian took her phone and showed the woman a photo of Dave Winters.

"Miss Peters, do you recognize this child?"

"Yes, it's Davey. Annie sometimes watched him when his father was at work." Miss Peters was tormenting a handkerchief between her hands.

"Do you know if there was a relationship between Annie and Dave's father?" Vivian asked.

"She never talked about it, but it could be. I just know she was worried about the kid."

"Really? What did she tell you?" Vivian continued.

"She told me that Dave lately was very quiet, too quiet for a kid his age and he had restless nights; he often woke up in tears. She was worried. She had talked with his father, but he seemed _too busy_ to worry about his son. At least this was what she told me." The woman's lips trembled and her eyes watered. She bit her lower lip and turned her look away from Vivian.

"Anything else?" Vivian asked. She realized that Miss Peters was on the edge of an emotional breakdown, but she wanted to be sure the woman had said everything she knew.

Miss Peters shook her head. She quickly wiped the tears away with her hand. Vivian handed her card to Miss Peters, saying to call if she remembered something else.

"Can I have a copy of the preliminary report?" Vivian asked her brother as they walked down the corridor.

"Of course! We lowly cops can't handle this case. The Feds need to take over."

"We are all working to find this child. It's been over 30 years and you are still holding a grudge? Dad's been dead a long time. He made a mistake, the agency made a mistake. It was corrected. It's over!"

"You were just a child, Viv. You weren't totally aware of what was happening at the time. You weren't witness to Dad's anguish and desperation. You could see that he lost his job, but you did not see the loss of dignity and self-respect. You didn't realize how he took menial jobs just to keep a roof over our heads. Yes, the Feds made a mistake and Dad paid for it."

"But then everything went well. It was just a few hard months. Dad went back to his work as supervisor at the post office and everything was in place again," Vivian replied.

"You were young. You did not realize how it affected him. You did not see how people looked at him and whispered about him behind his back. He protected you from all of it. The Feds caused it and now you are one of them." Detective Williams stopped, shook his head and walked away from his sister. Vivian had never heard this from her brother before. _Was he right?_

***

_New York County Supreme Court buildings, Center Street -- 6:30 PM_

Jack and Martin arrived at the Supreme Court offices when almost everyone had gone. It was Friday evening and Memorial Day weekend was about to start. Everyone wanted to go home and two FBI agents asking questions weren't what they were looking for. Martin saw two of Winters' colleagues, who were getting ready to start their job. They were just outside the storeroom, checking a last time if everything was in place on their cleaning trolley. The younger agent exchanged a look with Jack and approached them. He presented his credentials and asked them if they knew why Winters was not at work.

The two men were surprised. "Probably Davey is ill and Jerry didn't find a sitter. You know how children are fussy when they're sick. My wife says the next illness is mine!" The man laughed at the thought and added, "I would rather paint the house all over again with my mother-in-law directing the works!" He turned to his younger colleague, who was chuckling, and asked him, "What are you thinking, Greg? Listen to me man; enjoy your time without children!"

Martin intervened, preventing the other man from telling them another family scene, "Excuse me, sir, but do you know if your coworker had any relatives in the city?"

"I never heard him talk about relatives." The older man looked his coworker, who was agreeing with him.

"Maybe a friend with whom he could stay? We really need to talk with him," Martin continued, turning the attention to the younger man.

"Since his wife's death he hasn't been the same. He rarely goes out. He spends most of his time with his son." The man slowly shook his head.

"Thank you. If you hear from him, would you tell him to call me?" Martin handed them his card.

In the meantime Jack looked quickly around the offices that were on that floor and took notes of the justices' names. When he stopped in front of Justice Claire Morris' door, he was surprised to find her still at her desk. He knocked gently on the open door so as not to startle her.

Justice Morris was an attractive woman in her late forties. Her short brown hair didn't help softening her already hard features.

Hearing Jack's knocking she lifted her eyes and said with a polite but cold voice, "I'm sure we haven't an appointment." Then looking at her expensive wristwatch, she added, "I doubt you have one at all at this hour. So, how can I help you?"

"I'm Special Agent Jack Malone, FBI. I'd like to exchange a few words with you about one of the cleaners working here. It could be involved in a case we're working on."

"Please, take a seat, Agent Malone."

Jack walked in and approached her desk. _What was that? She stiffened as soon as she heard the word FBI. _Jack sat on the chair directly in front of her desk. In this way nothing would be between them, neither the monitor of her computer, nor her open briefcase that was on her desk. Jack had to be careful about what he asked her. They had nothing on Winters. He told her they were looking for him because they had reason to believe that his five-year-old son was on a crime scene.

"And why are you here?" The justice asked.

Jack was studying her reaction. He could see she was lightly annoyed, but she knew how to hide it. Probably something learned in court. _Was it because she didn't understand why they were asking her about him, or rather because she knew him? _

"Because we can't find Winters anywhere. Do you know him?" Jack abruptly asked. There was something about the woman's behavior that didn't convince Jack. Her coldness was excessive.

"I think I can associate a face to the name, but nothing more than this. I'm usually leaving as the cleaning crew is arriving and we don't speak socially. When I work late, I ask them to clean my office last. So, I don't know how I can help you. Now, Agent Malone, I'd like to finish my work and enjoy the long weekend."

She politely ended their conversation. She was not going to answer any other question. Jack thanked her and left. He saw Martin who was handing his cards to Winters' colleagues and waited for him.

"So, anything new?" Jack asked Martin as soon as the younger agent joined him.

"They were too calm. I doubt either of them knows anything," Martin stated.

"I just talked with Judge Morris… there could be something more there," Jack told him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jack started walking down the corridor toward the elevators and added, "But now let's go. Drop me at the office and then go to Winters' other workplace."

***

_FBI Headquarters_

Samantha entered the bullpen with a folder in her hands. "We have the warrant for the DNA of the child. An agent is going to take a sample to Winters' apartment," she told Vivian as she headed toward her desk.

"Jack just called; he's on his way back. Winters is not at work and hasn't been there since the day before yesterday." Vivian updated Sam with the new information Jack just gave her.

The phone on Vivian's desk rang. While she answered, an agent approached Samantha's desk with a big envelope.  
"Agent Spade, this is for you. It's from Lieutenant Hanson, 43rd Precinct."

Samantha thanked the young agent and opened the envelope. She was waiting for the complete report from NYPD on what they had found in the hotel room. Samantha started to look through it and didn't like what she read.

Vivian hung up the phone and was going to inform her colleague on what she had just discovered when she noticed Sam's annoyed attitude. "What's up?" she asked.

"They are keeping information from us! I had to call Lieutenant Hanson directly and threaten him to obtain this report. Ann Marie Krajcek was going to leave the city… probably with Dave. They found two bus tickets among her things. She was going to Belmont, Oregon – to her sister's." Sam lifted her eyes and didn't miss noticing Vivian's lightly amused expression. "You don't look surprised…"

"I was on the phone with Mrs. Robson, Ann Marie's sister. She told me that her sister had phoned her yesterday evening and had told her she was coming to stay with her for some weeks. And …," Vivian underlined her news with a pause, "… _Davey was going with her_. These were her words."

"_Davey?_" Samantha was surprised. "If Mrs. Robson called him 'Davey', her sister had to be very close to him and talk about him a lot."

"Exactly. I asked Mrs. Robson about it and she told me Dave was her sister's _boyfriend's son_."

"Boyfriend? Really?" Sam was even more surprised. "Were they really involved or was she making up an excuse to justify Dave's presence?"

"We just know Miss Krajcek needed to hide the child," Vivian stated.

"Did Mrs. Robson ask her sister why?" Sam's eyes glinted with hope.

"Her sister said she would explain better when she got there. Unfortunately it didn't happen," Viv replied.

"Viv, do you think she was going to take Dave away from his abusing father? Or did Winters trust her enough to let her take his child out of town?"

"I don't know, Sam. Miss Peters, Ann Marie's friend, told me the child was nervous. Maybe Winters was really abusing his son or it was just a bad time for him and asked Ann Marie to take care of Dave for a few days."

"Her bedroom was a mess, Viv. And then she went to that shithole of a hotel. There has to be more," Sam replied.

"Let's fill in the blanks on our timeline and see if we can solve this puzzle." Vivian left her desk, walking toward the board, a marker in her hand.

"I've a feeling many pieces are still missing… Why did she have to hide the child? Where is the father? He didn't go back to his apartment, he was not at work, his colleagues and friends have no idea where he could be and he isn't in any hospitals; I even checked the morgue… He vanished in thin air." Samantha said, joining her colleague at the whiteboard.

***

_21 Century Department Store, Brooklyn. NY_

Martin went to Winters' other workplace and talked to his employer. It was at least 24 hours since anyone had had any contact with him.

"It's odd. He knows that an unjustified absence means losing the job." Winters' boss explained to Martin.

While Martin interviewed the employer, Martin noticed another man trying very hard to overhear their conversation. Martin sensed that the man knew something, so he spoke louder and made reference to Winters' son. "The child could be in danger." Handing his business card to the employer, Martin loudly voiced how to contact him, repeating the information on the card. Hopefully, the man would contact Winters.

*

Martin was in his car, wondering if he had done the right thing, when his cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the ID caller. "Fitzgerald," he answered hopefully.

"I'm Jeremy Winters. I've been told you are looking for me."


	4. Ep One: The Little Prince, part 3

The Little Prince: Chapter Three

_FBI Headquarters -- NY_

Vivian opened Jack's office door and from the doorway said, "Winters is here. Martin is waiting for you outside Interview 2."

"Thanks, Viv." Jack looked at the clock on his desk as he walked toward the door and added, "Let's see if we can find this child before the night."  
_  
_*

"So, why were you looking for me?" an annoyed Jeremy Winters asked.

"We ask the questions, okay? Do you know Ann Marie Krajcek?" A resolute Martin took the lead of the interview.

"Yeah, why?"

Martin opened the folder he had with him and slid a photo into Winters' hands. It was a photo of the woman taken in the hotel room by the crime scene unit. "That's her. She was killed this morning in a hotel room in South Bronx."

Jack studied Winters' reaction carefully. He seemed genuinely shocked by the photos.

"We have reason to believe your son was at the crime scene." Martin coldly said.

"What? Why?" a confused and stunned Winters asked.

"Your son was with her in that hotel room. The blood in the hotel room matches Dave's blood type," Martin continued

"My son's blood? What are you talking about? Are you crazy?"

Martin took out another photo from the folder and slid it to Winters. It was a photo of the woman and Dave taken the night before. "Take a look here. It was sometime past 7 PM yesterday."

"It's impossible! That's not Davey. He was with me."

"Really?" Jack asked, lifting his brow.

"We're staying at friends in Queens. They are redecorating and needed help. I seized the occasion to make some extra money."

Jack watched as Winters' confusion changed to nervousness – speaking quickly, waving his hands. Then, he abruptly asked, "Mr. Winters, where were you between 5 and 8 AM this morning?"

"Are you kidding?" He clenched his fists on the table. "Do you think I did it? Why should I?"

Jack and Martin looked at each other. They both sensed that Winters now realized his son was in trouble.

"Were you abusing your son?" Martin, feeling it was the right moment to push, continued his questioning, " Did Ann Marie witness your behavior and threaten to call the police? It's hard to be a single parent, isn't it? Day after day… the pressure becomes too much… We've been told Dave was nervous lately, didn't talk much and often cried. These are signs of abuse, Mr. Winters!"

"No, no, no… stop it! Why are you saying this? I love my son. Since my wife died., he is all I have."

"Okay, so where is he? We want to talk with him," Martin said.

Jack saw a sudden glimpse of realization in Winters' eyes. He was going to ask for a lawyer. He wasn't going to give them any more information.

"I want a lawyer," Winters said.

"You're just making us lose time. You know that?" Jack said while he got up and followed Martin outside.

Martin and Jack looked at Winters through the glass. "He's scared; he won't talk," Jack said. "We don't have enough time to wait for his lawyer. Let him go and put an agent on him. I want to know everything he does from the moment he gets in the elevator. And let's hope he isn't as smart as he think he is."

Martin made a phone call and then entered the interview room again. "Mr. Winters, you can go. We don't have enough to keep you here. An agent will escort you downstairs."

Jack walked down the corridor toward his office aware of how much time they were losing. _What had Winters so scared? _Jack stood behind his desk with his hands in his pockets. Feelinga piece of paper in one of them, he took it out and read it. It was a note he had found that morning on his desk. A woman named Alice Bernsen had looked for him the evening before, but he had already gone home.

_Agent Malone,  
Mrs. Alice Bernsen asked for you after you had already left the office. She has information on a case your unit worked on. She'll be back to talk to you._

_A.K. Wilson_

Preoccupied with the current case, Jack had just put the note in his pocket and forgot it. Keeping the note in his hands, he approached the desk in the corridor where a young woman was collecting her things and getting ready to call it a day.

"Excuse me, Miss, has anyone asked for me today?" Jack asked.

"Let me check." The woman thumbed among the log on her desk and then added, "No, Agent Malone, no phone calls and no visitors. I would have told you or left a note."

"Right. Thank you." Turning toward the office, Jack put the note back in his pocket. If Alice Bernsen thought it was important enough to leave a note but not call back, there wasn't much he could do. He shrugged it off. He had a child to find.

*

Martin and Samantha were in the tech room. They followed Winters' movements as Lucy, one of the techs, was drawing Winters' path using a new software. She was using the information she received from the agents who were following Winters.

"He stopped at a public phone. Dawson was too far away to see the number he dialed. He seemed annoyed. Winters is making another call."

"He didn't find who he was looking for?" Samantha guessed, then spoke to Lucy, "Check with the telephone company to find out who Winters called," Samantha said.

"Okay, I sent the query with the identification number of the public phone and the time. We'll have an answer in a few minutes."

"Perfect. I'll call Dawson to bring Winters back in," Martin said.

Just some minutes later, Samantha went to Jack's office with the phone records in her hands. "You won't believe this," she said handing the folder to Jack.

"I could surprise you. Who is it?" he asked as he opened the folder.

"Judge Claire Morris' private cell phone. Just a few seconds. He probably left a message."

"Run a background check without breaking too many laws and ask for a warrant for her phone records. When I knock on her door at 9 PM, she won't be happy," Jack said.

*

Viv pushed Jack's office door open without knocking. Jack lifted his eyes toward her as she opened the folder she had in her hands.

"Claire Morris, born Connelly. She belongs to one of the richest families in Connecticut . Her father died two months ago, she never knew her mother. An Ivy Leaguer; law degree from Harvard. She worked as an ADA for three years in Boston and then came to New York. She was appointed judge in New York Supreme Court in 2000. She is said to be in line for a vacant seat in Federal Court. Her appointment is to be announced next month…"

"Okay, Viv. Let's go. Update me on the way to her house."

***

_Scarsdale, NY -- 8:30 PM_

Jack rang the bell at the Morris' residence, a stately mansion in Scarsdale. He clearly heard a male voice coming from inside, "Wait Helen, I'll open the door." A middle-aged man in an elegant suit answered the door. "Yeah?"

Jack and Vivian flashed their badges, "FBI, Agents Malone and Johnson. We need to talk to Judge Claire Morris."

"My wife? You need a warrant, don't you? She isn't the only judge in New York. Couldn't it wait until tomorrow at least? We are going out."

"I'm sorry, but this can't wait."

A female voice came from inside, "Andrew, who is it?"

"Agent… Malone from the FBI is here to talk to you. Don't be long. I'll get the car out of the garage and wait for you outside." Then he turned toward Jack and Vivian and said, "Agents," and walked past them outside.

"Mr. Morris?" Jack called to him as he was walking away, "I hope you don't care a lot about this event. I doubt your wife will still want to go out after talking with us." Then he turned toward Vivian and lead the way inside.

Claire Morris, in a long green dress, was arranging her earrings, which matched her gold necklace, in front of the mirror in the hall. She turned toward Jack and Vivian as she heard the door close.

"Agent Malone, what do you want again? I'm going out and I'm already late." She was clearly annoyed.

"About one hour ago you received a phone call on your cell from that same Jeremy Winters you didn't know very well just this afternoon. Either you two became fast friends since then or you lied to me."

"I didn't receive any phone call and I'm not a friend of his."

"We have the phone records, Judge Morris. Winters called from a public phone at 7:37. The call lasted 28 seconds," Vivian stated looking directly at her and then added, "It could be a message. Look, there is the life of a child in danger. They've already killed a woman in cold blood. Don't make us lose time waiting for the warrant, please. It's on the way and you know it." Vivian handed her the photos taken on the crime scene and then continued, "We have reason to believe whoever did this kidnapped Winters' son. The child was with her in that hotel room."

"I still don't understand why he would call me… Anyway wait… Take a seat on the couch." Claire Morris got her purse from the table against the wall in the hall and took out her cell phone. "My husband told me the phone had rung when I was taking a shower, but I was late and I didn't check it... Yes, there is a message in the voice mail. I'll put it on the speaker phone." She placed the phone on the coffee table and sat on the armchair near the couch.

"They have my son, bitch. You know what I'm talking about. They killed the woman who was with him. If anything happens to Dave, you're dead."

"Oh, my God! What is this?" Judge Morris was surprised.

"You really don't know?" Vivian asked.

The agents watched as realization crossed her face. She looked stunned.

"My father suddenly died two months ago. I went through his documents with his lawyer and discovered he had been buying the silence of a family." She stood up from the armchair and approached the crystal table in the corner where several bottles and a few glasses lay. She poured some scotch into a glass and then turned toward the agents and asked, "Anything to drink?"

"No, thanks." Jack replied.

She took a sip and then continued, "It was something that happened 30 years ago, more or less. I was still in high school and had just got my SAT results. All my hard work had paid off—with those results I would be accepted almost everywhere. I went out with my friends to celebrate. We drank and then driving home I had an accident. My father covered for it…

… "_Dad! Dad!" I stormed into his office, sure to find him there even if it was late._

"_What's up, darling?" He came to me worried, not used to seeing me so upset._

"_I had an accident!" I burst into tears as soon as he laid a hand on my shoulder._

"_Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah… No… It's my fault! I had been drinking and I wasn't feeling well. I was sick. I didn't see a stop sign and hit another car! The car went off the road and stopped against a tree in the field. I was scared. Nobody was moving… I ran away! I left them there... What am I going to do?"_

"_It's okay, honey. I'll take care of everything. You never took that street, okay? Forget it. It never happened." _

"_Will you fix this?" I lifted my head and met his confident look._

"_Don't worry. Forget it." My father hugged me tight...._

"…And I did it. I moved on and I forgot. I'm not proud of it, but I was just a kid. Even the memory is blurred. We never talked about it anymore."

"What does Winters have to do with this?" Jack asked.

"Winters knew someone was blackmailing me and he threatened to go to the press if I didn't give him, in his words, _30 grand_. Two blackmails are too much. I told the lawyer that I didn't want to pay anymore. Someone had discovered my secret and my career was ruined anyway. I was tired of carrying that burden. I never mentioned Winters' name."

Claire Morris, hearing her own words, realized the gravity of what happened. She felt her strength abandon her, her legs suddenly couldn't support her any more. "A woman died and a child is in peril because of me, because of my selfish ambition." She fell back into the armchair. Her hands on her face, she cried, "What did I do?" There was guilt mixed with desperation in her voice.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to all the readers and a special "thank you" to the '_reviewers_', here and on my livejournal! And, as always, Sharon and Diane, just 'thank you' is not enough for you!


	5. Ep One: The Little Prince, part 4

**A/N**: This is the last part of the first episode. There will be an interlude after this and then the next episode.  
As always, great thanks to my awesome 'beta' Sharon and Diane and a big thank you to all readers! :)

* * *

The Little Prince: Chapter Four

_12 hours missing  
FBI Headquarters, NY_

"Sam, Winters' lawyer is here. They are waiting in Interview 1," Martin said, turning toward his colleague as he hung up the phone.

"Let's go. Jack and Viv are trying to contact Judge Morris' lawyer, but you know how lawyers are. If anything, he'll make us lose more time. We have to make Winters talk." Sam gathered her note pad, pen and cell phone and followed Martin out the bullpen.

#

Martin and Samantha entered the interview room and took a seat at the table opposite Winters and his lawyer.

"Your son was with you, right? I'll give you a chance to change your previous statement. Where is your son, Mr. Winters?" Martin asked.

"My client isn't going to talk," Winters' lawyer stated.

"Do you understand how serious this is?" Martin asked, looking directly at Winters.

Winters nodded and bent his head down, looking intently at his hands.

"I seriously doubt that," Sam said sharply, then, sliding the photo of Ann Marie Krajcek's body in front of Winters, added, "This was taken this morning in a hotel room. Your son's blood was found in that room. We know Dave was there and we know whoever killed this woman kidnapped him. Dave is in danger; he is wounded, maybe seriously. You have to tell us what happened. We know why they took him, and sadly there is no reason to keep him alive now. Judge Morris withdrew her appointment to the Federal Court this afternoon. It will be all over tonight's news. We'll give you a few minutes to talk with your lawyer. Remember, the clock is ticking… it could be already too late for Dave."

The agents walked out. Martin reached Sam as she leaned against the wall and asked, "Sam? Are you alright?"

"Yeah… It's just… We need as much information as possible to find this child. It's been more than 12 hours. Can he be that stupid? His son's life is in his hands!"

"It seems like they are ready," Martin said nodding to the glass. Winters and his lawyer had stopped talking.

"Okay, it's time to go back there," Sam added as she walked to the door. She opened it and then asked Winters if they were ready. Winters nodded.

"Let's start from the beginning. Why did you blackmail Judge Morris? " Martin started the questioning.

"It was about a week ago. I was running late and went straight to the job at the courthouse without checking in my boss' office. I was waiting for my colleagues in the garage. Suddenly the door to the building opened. I turned and saw Judge Morris storm into the garage. She was upset. I could see she was in a hurry. She went to her car and fumbled for the key. A few seconds later a man called her name and approached her…

…"_Claire, please, wait. Think about it. They are dangerous men." _

"_I'm not going to change my mind, Mark. Do what you have to do, but I don't want to be involved. And tell them, whoever they are, I'm not going to pay forever." She closed her car door and sped away._

_The man took his phone and made a call. _

_I went a bit nearer, hiding behind the parked cars. I needed to know more._

"_I talked to her, but she is stubborn……. Give me a few more days. I'm sure she will change her mind. Her career means more to her than the money. "…_

"I had no idea what it was about, but I was in desperate need of money. I told her I knew what was happening. I wanted 30 grand to keep my mouth shut. I let her know she had three days to give me the money or I would go to the press. Then, two days later, I was walking home with Dave…

…"_Hey, Winters!" I heard someone calling my name and I turned. Two men approached me. The younger of them grabbed Dave's waist from behind and lifted him. _

"_Dad!" I heard my son's scream He was terrified. The man covered his mouth with a hand, preventing him from screaming and carried him in an alley. I ran after him. _

"_What are you doi…," I was shouting when the other man yanked me against the wall without letting me finish the sentence. I felt a sharp knife to my throat. _

"_Shhh! Shut up! Just listen… we know what you are trying to do. Forget it! Your son is a cute kid, you know? I'd be sorry if you couldn't see him grow up… Have I been clear enough?"…_

"My son was terrified. I knew they were talking about Judge Morris. I had to protect my son. I went to Ann Marie's. She immediately understood something big had happened. I told her everything and she offered to keep Davey with her…

…"_Leave him here. I'll take care of him. Don't worry," Annie told me._

"_It's too dangerous." I didn't want to involve her in my trouble._

"_My sister lives in Oregon, and she has been asking me to visit. I could go there with Davey. There is a bus leaving in the morning."…_

"I let her do that. I didn't want to know where she was going to spend the night. I was scared they could harm Dave," Winters explained, "but I caused her death. They probably followed her."

"Do you know their names?" Samantha asked.

"No, I don't," Winters said as he shook his head.

"Could you give us a description?"

"Yeah, I'll never forget their faces."

#

Samantha entered the bullpen and headed toward Martin's desk. He was on the phone. As he saw Sam approaching, he said, "I'm on the phone with Viv. She's going to interview Morris' lawyer with Jack."

"Tell them not to waste their time. We have a lead. NYPD reported a shooting on Creston and East 183rd Street this morning. They arrested two men who fit the description Winters gave us," Samantha said.

###

_46th Precinct – Bronx, NY_

"How do you want to handle this?" Vivian asked Jack as they walked down the corridor to the interviews room.

"Here is a copy of a shoeprint. And the CSI team is processing the DNA samples, right? I'm not sure if they have already tested the knife, but surely we are checking the traffic cameras in the area…" Jack said.

"Right. Okay, let's play dirty. Which one?" Vivian asked as she took the folder Jack handed her.

"I'll take 'knife-happy'. He still had the knife in his pocket. The odds are that he is the killer," Jack said as he turned toward the interview room.

"Okay, I'll take the 'child-grabber', Jeff Grant," Vivian replied, looking through the glass at the suspect. Then turning to the policeman at the door, she asked, "Do you know if he has any children?"

"Yeah, three children. But he got divorced two years ago and his wife went to California with them."

Vivian went in and took a seat opposite the man. There wasn't a lawyer in sight. She had to take advantage of that.

"So, Mr. Grant, are you going to tell me where's the child that you and your friend abducted this morning?"

"I have nothing to say."

"Right. We have a matching footprint on the sheet, DNA, and I'm sure NYPD found a few nice photos of you taken by the traffic cameras on Creston Avenue by now. Do you know how people who abuse children are _entertained_ in jail? It's just a matter of time and you'll have a taste of it even here. "

"What if I knew something?"

"You already are an accomplice in the murder of Ann Marie Krajcek. Would you also like to be charged with Dave's homicide? Dave is only five-years-old. He's just a kid. Wouldn't you feel a better man if you helped us? Give us a hand, think about your children; I'm sure you didn't kill anyone."

"What if I wanted to call my lawyer instead?"

"Do you? We should wait for him and my boss isn't going to give you the same chance I am now."

"No, I don't. I don't want a lawyer, I didn't kill anyone," Grant stated.

She slid a notepad to him and added, "Write down what happened. I'm sure we can find an agreement."

#

After she took the man's statement, Vivian left the room and walked down the corridor looking for Jack.

"So, anything useful? '_' _there wants a lawyer," Jack told Vivian as she approached him. She had a smile plastered on her face.

"Take a look at this," Vivian exclaimed as she showed what Grant had written. "After the shooting, they left the car. But the police chased them. They got separated and Grant had the child with him. When he heard the agents approaching he hid the child in an alley, behind a trash bin and told him to stay put."

"How long ago?"

"Thirteen hours."

"Shit! Let's go there," Jack ordered as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the team. "Martin, meet Vivian and me on East 176th Street, near Crotona Park. And, have Samantha start looking through the convicted pedophiles in the area." _It would be a long night_.

###

_Crotona Park neighborhood, Bronx, NY_

NYPD was helping them to canvas the area. A policeman found Dave's backpack, but Davey was nowhere in sight. Detective Williams unwillingly reported to Jack with the backpack just found, making clear that it was an evidence for both of their cases. While Jack and Martin kept looking for someone who had seen the child, Vivian's brother escorted her back to the office. He wasn't going to leave the evidence to be processed by the Feds without his supervision.

The drive to the office was uncomfortable. It wasn't the right moment to go down the path of yesteryear's memories, but what her brother told her early that afternoon really bugged her. Detective Williams, on the other hand, wasn't doing anything to make the situation easy. It seemed to Vivian that he was enjoying the tension between them; he knew the right buttons to push to make her feel uncomfortable. She was normally the one in control and this feeling was very foreign to her. She never let her personal life compromise her work, or at least that was what she believed. She was an FBI agent—a good one.

Her brother, as if he could read her thoughts, asked, "So tell me, Viv, just why did you apply to the FBI?"

"To make this a better world to live in?"

"Seriously."

"I don't know. I wanted something more; I wanted to make the difference, not just chase the suspect of a crime and get him arrested. I wanted to be part of something bigger."

"NYPD was too limited for our 'college girl'," Detective Williams said with a sour grin.

"Yeah, probably." She knew what her brother was trying to do, but she wasn't going to pick a fight.

"I've been told you did a real number on Grant down at the 46th. What is it? Do you have monthly seminars to update on the FBI new techniques that we, 'mere' police, couldn't use? Like what they used to make appear as Dad confessed something. You are very good at making people feel guilty even if they did nothing wrong."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "You really have to go past it. It's eating you alive, you know? I thought about what you said this afternoon. Dad was at the ceremony of my graduation from Quantico and he told me he was proud of me. You were the ONLY one absent. You can't blame the entire FBI because an agent made a mistake. That agent should have checked more carefully; it was a case of mistaken identity. Williams is a common name. I'm not trying to justify his actions. He did a big mistake, but you have to let it go. It was a long time ago!" Vivian wasn't going to talk about it anymore. It was a stupid argument and if her brother wanted to hold a grudge, it was fine with her.

###

_14 ½ hours missing _

Samantha was looking through the files of convicted pedophiles living near the place Dave Winters vanished. She had found three names so far. Jack and Martin were checking them with the help of NYPD. As Samantha was getting started on a new box of files, Vivian and Detective Williams entered the bullpen and joined her at the conference table.

"Hey, Viv. Detective," Samantha nodded at Vivian's brother.

"We came from the lab. They have already looked for prints," Viv said as she took out Dave's backpack from a plastic protective bag used for evidences. She laid the small backpack on the conference table and started to empty it.

Samantha moved the box to the side to give Viv some space. Looking at the things on the table, a worn book caught Sam's attention. She stretched her arm to take it and looked at the book title--_The Little Prince_. She didn't remember ever reading it. She quickly skimmed the pages. There were drawings in the book that looked like watercolor paintings. It didn't seem a cheap book for children. There was a folded page at some point. The book looked worn as if it had been read many times until the marked page. But after that, strangely enough the remaining pages seemed untouched, as if no one ever read them. _Why? _

Winters, escorted by an agent, approached the conference table. He had been summoned to check his son's backpack to see if anything was missing. He saw Samantha's puzzled expression as she looked through Dave's book.

"Agent Spade, that's Davey's favorite book. He knows it by heart. I try to read it to him and when we get to the marked page, I have to stop. That is where his mother stopped reading just before she died. It's as if he is waiting for her to finish the book," Winters said with his voice filled with emotion. He brushed the cover of the book with his fingers, and, going back with the memory at those happier times, added, "She used to tell him that he was her little prince."

Samantha felt her stomach tighten. "I'm sorry for your loss. It has to be very hard for both of you," was all that she came up with. Samantha realized how little Dave was when his mother died. Children's mind worked in a fascinating and instinctive way. If the book was so important to Dave, she felt that she had to know what it was about. Samantha opened the book and started reading.

###

_Crotona Park, Bronx, NY _

The police were checking on the pedophiles and several agents were spread around the neighborhood looking for Davey. The streets were empty and just a few drugstores were still open past 10 PM. It was getting darker and darker and Martin and Jack were running out of options. They walked down Crotona Avenue, entered the park and saw there were still lights on in the tennis courts. There had been a tournament for young players during the week and they probably took advantage of the warm weather to schedule a late game. Parents and kids were leaving, getting in their cars or already speeding away. Not far away from the entrance of the tennis courts, a woman was cleaning the counter of her kiosk before going home. The two agents approached her and showed her the photo of the kid.

"Let me see under a better light… yeah, I saw him. What time was it?... Early afternoon, I think. I gave him an ice cream."

"Was he alone?" Martin asked.

"No, there was a man with him. I thought he was his father. He bought an ice cream and a coke. They were getting along well."

Martin showed the photos of the pedophiles that Samantha had sent them to the woman and asked, "Do you recognize one of them?"

At the third photo, she exclaimed, "It's him!"

"Are you sure?" Martin asked, then turned to Jack, showed him the photo and said, "Greg Porter."

She nodded. "They sat over there," the woman said, indicating a bench just opposite the kiosk. "The boy ate the ice cream and made a mess. You know how kids are. The man came back here and asked for some napkins. He seemed so attentive. Then they walked away together. Do you think that man hurt that nice boy?"

"We just know he wasn't his father," Jack replied. Then turning to Martin, he ordered, "Call Sam and tell her to get some more info on Porter and come here. We'll meet at his apartment. I'll have to inform NYPD."

###

On the way to Porter's apartment, Samantha shared the ride with Detective Williams. She was reading the file, taking mental note of the essential information. Detective Williams looked at Samantha from time to time when the traffic let him.

"Why are you reading that file? We already know he is a perv. What is it? What do you write on those files? His favorites books, movies, music? Are you looking for something else to read after '_The Little Prince'_?" Detective Williams mocked Samantha.

"I guess we work in different way," Sam answered without lifting her eyes from the file.

"Yeah, you look for the living and leave the dead bodies to us."

"Really, we try to find them before they _become_ _bodies_. That's our job."

"Looking for the kid, we found a body –a woman- in the park. It was hidden under leaves and branches. I suppose you're not interested in it."

"I'm sorry for that woman, but now I have a child to find," Samantha said, cutting out him short. Detective Williams was starting to get on her nerves.

"Here we are. I'm curious to see how you'll use all those valuable pieces of information," Detective Williams said as he parked the car near the entrance of the building.

As Jack saw Samantha get out of the car, he nodded to her and Martin to go up as he dealt with Detective Williams. "Until we find the child, the case is ours." Jack's words weren't open to discussion.

Martin and Samantha opened the door with a few policemen following them. They were expecting the worst. Samantha was strangely relieved to not find the child's body. There was hope he was still alive.

"Where is Dave Winters?" Martin asked Greg Porter after a policeman handcuffed him.

"Who? What do you want from me? I did nothing."

"Don't play with me. We have a witness who saw you two together this afternoon. Where is the kid?"

"He's not here."

Martin lost his patience and grabbed the man by the collar and pushed him against the wall. "I'll ask you this one last time, WHERE IS THE KID?"

"I don't know, I swear! I bought him an ice cream, we talked, I told him I had a videogame collection at my apartment. I told him to come with me. I had almost convinced him when we heard brakes squeal and horns beep. A woman screamed because a kid ran into the street. Dave got scared, pulled away from me and ran away."

"And you? Didn't you run after him?" Samantha asked.

"There were a lot of people there, I didn't want to risk a misunderstanding. People always go for the obvious assumptions but I wanted to take Davey here just because I didn't want him to get harmed. Wandering alone is dangerous for a little boy," Porter said, trying to justify his actions.

The glint of longing that Samantha read in Porter's eyes made her feel sick. She had to step away from that man. She casually looked through the window and realization hit her.

"I might know where he is," Sam's words suddenly interrupted the questioning.

"What?" Martin turned toward her.

"I know where Davey is," Samantha repeated as she sprinted toward the front door.

Martin left the pedophile to NYPD and followed Sam out. Jack was downstairs, still talking with detective Williams. He saw Sam storm out from the building with Martin running after her.

"Did you see him?" Martin asked Sam.

"No, it's just that the snake is a hat for us," she replied as she stopped next to Jack. She remembered one of the first drawings in the book. A kid had drawn a snake that had eaten an elephant, but when he showed it to adults they could only see a hat. Adults weren't able to see beyond the appearance.

"What?" Martin and Jack shared a confused look.

"The Little Prince, Dave's favorite book. If he hides inside a snake, adults won't be able to see him. And there is a small roller coaster for kids in the playground outside. The tunnel is like a big snake. The little train enters from the snake's mouth." She explained as she kept looking around to find the nearest entry to the playground.

#

Martin and Samantha went through the mouth of the metallic fake snake, while Jack and Detective Williams took the exit. It was dark inside and there wasn't much room. Their flashlights' beams gave the place a sinister atmosphere.

"I'll go to the right," Sam told Martin, and then started calling for Dave.

Martin walked on the left side of the tunnel as he kept moving his flashlight and calling Davey's name. Suddenly he saw a quick movement, went back with the light and approached the spot.

"Dave? Are you there?" Martin recognized Dave's brown hair. "Sam, I found him!" Then turning again to the little boy, he tried to keep him calm, "Hey, Davey. I'm with the FBI, the police, okay? Come out, I'll take you to your dad."

Dave slowly showed up from his hiding spot as Samantha joined them.

"How did you see me?" the kid asked.

"Because we are friends with the Little Prince," Sam smiled, then, taking Dave's hand, helped him out of his hiding spot, she added, "Come on, Davey, let's go outside."

Martin scooped the boy up and together they went out from the tunnel.

###

After Dave was given back to his father and everything was settled in the office, everyone was ready to go home, eager to start the long weekend. Reports and everything else could wait. Samantha and Martin left after saying goodbye to Vivian and Detective Williams. Vivian gathered her things from her desk, ready to call it a day.

"Maybe, you Feds aren't so bad," Steven Williams said as he approached his sister's desk.

Vivian smirked. She slid into her jacket and took her purse.

"I have been stupid, Viv." Detective Williams leaned against Viv's desk. He looked at his sister and realized it was time to put aside his irrational resentment and be a family again.

"You weren't the only one. We've been both stubborn and never tried to understand each other. Maybe it's time to forget. I think that would make Dad happy… I know Marcus would be."

"You're right, Viv," Steven smiled and continued, "I never tried to understand your choices. Even Dad told me to 'stop being an ass' with you. He was so proud of you. Really. I'm sorry, Viv."

"Have you any plans for next Saturday? You and Lynn could come for dinner. Marcus has been dying to show off his new gas grill. He thinks he is a master chef now," Vivian said.

"I think I can show him a thing or two about outdoor grilling!" Steven Williams nodded as a smile matching his sister's appeared on his lips. He put his arm around Vivian's shoulders and they walked away together.

**###**

It was almost 3 AM when Samantha finally arrived at home. She had gone back to the office with Dave and then she took everything she needed to write her report from her apartment. She wouldn't be on call and intended to stay away from the office till the following Tuesday. She needed the time to settle things for her new living arrangements. Brian was moving in permanently and he would need some room for his clothes. She had a lot of work ahead of her and she needed to do it alone. A lot of memories were locked in that closet. She sighed as she opened the door. Brian lay peacefully asleep on the couch. The TV was still on and the table was set for a romantic dinner. He had thought of everything -- roses, red wine and candles. He had surely spent hours setting everything.

She felt her stomach suddenly tighten. She knew she should have wakened him, but she didn't quite feel like doing it. Instead she took the blanket from the back of the armchair and covered the young man, being careful to not waken him. She checked on Finn and quickly changed into her nightshirt. She was a coward --- she knew what Brian wanted, but she still wasn't ready. Waiting for sleep to overtake her, she wondered if she would ever be ready.


	6. Interlude One

**A/N**: here we are... the first interlude! It's about Sam, obviously! You should know by now that she is my favorite character.  
As always, great thanks to Sharon and Diane.

* * *

**INTERLUDE I**

**Samantha**

Samantha slid Finn into his windbreaker and secured him to his stroller. She kissed him on his forehead and said, "Have fun with Daddy!" She shared a smile with Brian and closed the door behind them.

Brian was going to take their son to the park and Samantha seized the occasion to have a couple of hours just for herself. She had to clean her closet to make room for Brian's things.

She wasn't sure if she did the right choice, but she could not risk having regrets in the future. She had always played it safe in her past. She had let men into her life, but she had kept them at arm's length. Now Finn needed a family.

Samantha couldn't deny that she still had feelings for Jack. She probably always would, but listening to them never took her in any and Jack had tried to make their relationship work, but the timing was never right. _Maybe there was a reason for that._ Their break up had seemed to be mutual. And, their reasons _were_ mutual. Jack had pulled away to take care of Hanna just when she needed a father for her son. Jack wasn't a bad father, but any close relationship was hard for him. That wasn't what she wanted for Finn. Brian was a stranger when they met. She didn't even remember how they had ended up in bed the first time they met. She had tried to push him away, but then when he had asked, she had given Brian the chance to be a father to his son. Then, there was the accident. Brian was terribly injured and she took him in to recuperate. When he had been well enough to leave, and had offered to do so, she had found herself not wanting him to. They could become a family; she wasn't sure what kind of family, but it felt right to give it a chance.

She picked up two of Finn's toys from the floor and put them into the basket near the sofa. Then she switched on the radio to have some company. She stopped in the doorway of her bedroom and looked at Brian's things still stored in several boxes in the corner. It was time to get started. Finn and Brian wouldn't be out forever. With a heavy sigh she approached the closet and opened it. Making room for Brian's things was something she wanted to do. This was a start of a new life for her. She had to clear the past, and she had to do it herself.

She started with her most recently disposable clothes-her maternity clothes. She wasn't going to wear them any time soon. She was quite sure of that. She took one of the empty boxes that she had put aside with this purpose in mind and filled it with her clothes. She would drop them off to St. Joseph's on her way to work on Tuesday.

Then she skimmed the hangers. There were her work clothes and some more casual ones, jeans, a couple of dresses she didn't even recall ever wearing. Then she saw the two big boxes on the bottom of the closet. _What were they? _They had been there so long she had no idea what was in them.

She started rummaging in the first box, and didn't recall having kept so many things over the years-old sweaters, out-of-fashion clothes and a few items she'd had since college. She hadn't been able to get rid of them and now she wondered why. There was also a large t-shirt she recognized as Martin's. Taking it out she found an old box, one of those tins used for cookies. She'd had it since her teen years. She used to keep her secrets there, things that no one could see. She sat on the floor and looked at its contents. Among other things there was a photo of her father, or better, a photo of the man she thought- maybe hoped- had been her father; a little half heart made of wood, memory of her best friend in high school; a dry rose, memory of her first and only real prom date; her wedding ring; and a match book she could never forget. It was a reminder of when her life became complicated _again_…

…_It had been snowing since the early morning and Samantha and Jack had been out following leads all day—one dead-end after another. Samantha was freezing head to toe. Her face was red, her eyes watered from the sharp wind and her fashionable boots weren't exactly made to walk on the snow for hours. She was longing for her down-filled coat and her warm and comfy Uggs. She had been working missing persons for a little more than a year now; she had learned a lot, thanks to Jack and Viv, but sometimes she still felt like a rookie. _

"_Samantha, let's go, it's time to call it a day," Jack said as he ended his conversation on the phone and walked toward their car._

"_I thought I wouldn't hear those words ever again. It has been a hell of a day."_

"_Yeah, it has," Jack replied as he looked at his wristwatch. "It's late. Let's get a bite to eat before we head back." _

"_No dinner waiting for you tonight?" Samantha teased, calling Jack's bluff._

"_No, Maria is out of town with the girls. They had a school break and she took them to visit her parents," Jack explained as he looked around to find a place where they could grab something to eat._

"_Right. Thanksgiving. I've never been good at remembering holidays, even when I had my family around." _

"_Me either and not just the holiday," Jack said, and then started walking down the street. _

"_Let me guess? Wedding anniversary or your wife's birthday?" Samantha asked, walking at his side._

_Jack couldn't help a smile. "Predictable, huh?" he turned to look at her._

"_You can say that." __She realized how comfortable she was with her boss. She liked that. She didn't have to be on her guard with him._

_There was a diner not far away and they entered. There weren't any free tables so they sat at the counter. They ordered hamburgers, fries and cokes. _

_While waiting for their plates to be served, Samantha looked around. It was Saturday evening and the diner was crowded. She couldn't help but smile. __She felt she had stepped back into time. The diner was filled with teenagers ._

"_What is it? Why are you grinning?" Jack asked curious to know what caused her sudden amused expression._

"_I feel like I'm out on a date back in high school. Guys everywhere, coke and smoke."_

"_Oh, and that would make me your horny boyfriend? Any chance I'll get to second base… or more?" Jack playfully asked._

"_Do you think I was so 'easy' back then?" Sam asked back. Her tone faked hurt, but her eyes showed she was enjoying the game._

"_Just checking my odds… you know, teenagers have rampant hormones…," he mischievously replied._

_Their eyes locked and the smiles faded from their lips. They both knew they were in dangerous territory. She quickly changed the subject as she felt awkwardness growing between them._

"_Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked." It's a bad habit. I should quit." _

_Jack lifted his eyebrow. "Good luck! I've been trying since Maria told me we were having a kid!"_

_She smiled and offered him the pack. He shook his head. She took out a cigarette and expertly kept it between her fingers while she rummaged in her purse for the lighter. Jack beat her to it and lit a match, taken from one of the several advertising match books on the counter. He lit her cigarette and slowly blew out the match while staring into her eyes. Samantha took a deep drag and slowly exhaled the smoke. As she exhaled, she felt the tension in her body leave with it._

"_It's a good thing Maria is not home tonight. At least I won't have to explain away the smell on my clothes," Jack jokily said as they got started on their food… _

Samantha sometimes still wondered if she quit smoking because of those words. How many decisions had she made thinking of Jack? If she thought with objectivity, the last ten years of her life had been on hold. She had always waited for him – to give in, to feel guilty enough, to make things work with his wife, to go away, to come back, to play with her, to come and rescue her… But then Finn arrived and her life changed. How easy were those words? _Her life changed_. A large smile crossed her face as she stood up and went to her dresser. She opened a drawer and took out the baseball cap that Jack had given her as a gift after Finn's birth. She folded it and went back to the old tin box. She put the cap inside and closed the box. She knew if she kept getting lost in her memories, she would never finish the task at hand. It was time to make room for new memories.

An hour later most of the work was done. Two drawers and part of her closet were clear. There would be plenty of room for his things. She was proud of herself. She had only to clear what had been Jack's drawer and his few hangers. Those had been his space in her house during their affair, then it became Martin's space during their relationship. She still remembered how Martin bugged her for closet or drawer space. She had made space for him but it never was enough. She had never felt the space was permanent when she had given it to Martin; now, she was sure it was meant to be _Brian's space_. She had messed things up with Martin and she didn't want to repeat the same mistakes again. _Was she willing to finally accept that a man could treat her well?_ She had to try harder for her son's sake.

Brian was so sweet and a good dad to their son. That morning she had woken up smelling coffee. Brian had served breakfast in bed. There was coffee, toast, orange juice and a red rose on the tray. She had immediately felt guilty for the night before. She had told him that she was sorry, but she had come back really late and he was sound asleep. He had told her that he understood-it was how her work went.

Did he really understand? And, more important, did he or would he accept that? She hoped so, because unfortunately there would be a lot of _rain checks_ in their future. He had to learn to give her space when she was working on a case.

She was really going to try with Brian. The job was done. She had put the past away and made room for the future and, it felt good and it felt right.


	7. Ep Two: Drag Me To Hell, part 1

**A/N: **Here it is, the new episode! I'm sorry it took so long, but real life has that annoying habit to distract me from what I really want to do.  
Sharon and Diane helped me through this, and I'll never be able to thank them enough.  
I went through my stories today and realized that I started posting here two years ago. If there is someone still reading, THANK YOU. Write to you soon! ;)

* * *

Drag Me to Hell: Chapter One

_Tuesday, 26__th__ May - 8:55 AM  
Outside Sophie's School, NY  
_

"Did you take your lunch?" Elena asked before her daughter got out of the car.

"Yeah, Mama," Sophie said as she slid her backpack on her shoulders.

"And, you didn't forget your paper, did you?"

"No, Danny," Sophie replied as she rolled her eyes.

"Good. Just to be sure."

The girl shot an exasperated look to her stepfather before closing the car door. But she couldn't stay upset with him for long. He always managed to make her smile with one of his 'faces'. Smiling, Sophie waved goodbye to him.

"Oh, oh… Miss! Aren't you forgetting something? Kiss me goodbye!" Elena told her daughter as the girl turned to walk toward the school entrance.

"Mama! I'm not a little girl anymore!"

"True, but I'm still the same old mama!" Elena said as she showed her cheek to her daughter, making clear she wanted a kiss, and added, "Come here, make your old mom happy!"

"Okay, okay." Sophie kissed her Mom on the cheek and waved goodbye again.

Elena continued to watch her daughter until she entered the school door. "You know, she's growing up so fast. She already asked me if next year I'll let her go to school with her friends."

"Obviously, we won't! She's nine!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know… We'll have time to talk about it," Elena replied as she turned to look at her husband.

"I love you, Elena." Danny couldn't help saying it. He loved her so much and when she was lost in her thoughts about Sophie, seeing her soft side came out, he loved her even more.

Just before Elena could reply, Danny's phone rang. "Taylor… Hey, Viv… Professor Haumann, John Jay College of Criminal Justice. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Well, I guess the honeymoon is over. Time to get back to work," Elena said.

"Unfortunately, yes. I'll drop you off at the office and I'll meet Viv at John Jay College," Danny replied as he pulled into the busy traffic of New York rush hour.

_John Jay College, Haaren Hall, __midtown Manhattan, NY  
2 days missing_

Vivian Johnson approached her boss as he hung up his cell phone. "Hey, Jack," she said.

"Morning, Viv. What do we have?"

Vivian skimmed her notes and started, "Robert Philip Haumann, fifty-nine-years-old, criminology professor at John Jay since 2001. He often works with the FBI as a consultant. This is why we were called so soon after they discovered he was missing. No wife, no children. He lives alone. Last seen Saturday afternoon around 3 PM leaving this building after a conference. The guard at the entrance said Haumann waved goodbye passing by the counter as usual. Danny is looking through the footage of the security cameras at the entrance. The police are going through his office."

"Okay. I was on the phone with Martin; he and Samantha are at Professor Haumann's apartment. No sign of forced entry. They are waiting for the CSI team to dust for prints. We still can't say if he ever made it home on Saturday evening."

"Do you think he was abducted on his way home?" asked Vivian.

"Why not? It may also be related to an FBI case. Do you know on what he was working or with which unit?"

"No, I don't. I think he worked directly with Quantico—academic stuff, probably. I didn't hear anything from upstairs. We know about this just because it was on the file they sent in. And guess what, Deputy Director Clark Medina directly assigned our unit to this case from Washington," Vivian explained.

"I'm honored!" Jack said sarcastically. "The professor must be very important to the FBI or has some very influential friends. I'll have Elena look into it. She'll be with us for a few more days, until she gets her transfer. I've been told Human Resources is behind," Jack explained as he took his phone out from his pocket. "After that I'll go and exchange a few words with the administrator. I need something to call Quantico."

"Let me know. And remember, I want floor seats," Vivian playfully replied, and then going back to work mode, she added, "I'll take a look at Haumann's office. Forensics should be done by now. See you there."

_Professor Haumann's apartment__, midtown Manhattan_

Haumann didn't use one of the apartments that the college put at faculty disposal. He had his own apartment near the college within walking distance. There was a little garden just opposite the building. May flowers were in full blossom.

"Nice digs!" Samantha said as she entered Professor Haumann's building.

"There isn't a caretaker. It's odd considering we're in Manhattan," Martin replied as he followed his colleague into the building.

"Yeah, but there is a security system installed. Take a look around, there are cameras everywhere. So much for privacy!"

"We gave up our privacy for our security a few years ago," Martin replied as he read the names of Haumann's neighbors written on the mailboxes.

"Yeah. At least we'll see if he made it home on Saturday evening," Samantha said as she walked toward the elevator. She pushed the button as Martin joined her, and then asked him, "We have time to question the neighbors while we wait for the crime scene team to finish. Anybody look interesting? Where should we start?"

"Let's start from his floor."

_Haaren Hall, John Jay College, NY_

Jack was sitting on an armchair in Professor Coldwell's office, waiting for the man to finish a phone call. Jack looked around the room. An entire wall was full of degrees, certificates and awards. Photos of Coldwell speaking at conferences and posing next to well-known academics completed the picture. Despite Coldwell's brilliant career, Haumann was chosen to work with the Bureau on high profile cases, which made him well known and respected at the school. _Could Coldwell have resented that?_

Professor Coldwell's voice interrupted Jack's flow of thoughts. "Agent Malone," the administrator greeted Jack with a vigorous handshake. "I'm sorry for making you wait. With this situation, all the plans changed, and I had to cancel the discussion about next year's scholarships scheduled for this afternoon."

"I understand. Can I ask you a few questions about Professor Haumann?"

"Sure. Whatever I can do to help."

"When did you last see him?" Jack asked.

"Saturday afternoon, at the conference. I invited him for Memorial Day, but he told me he had work to do. I should have insisted. Maybe he would be here now."

"You seem sure he disappeared yesterday. Why is that?"

"I'm just assuming. I don't believe anyone would have noticed his absence otherwise."

"You'd be surprised at how many things people fail to notice. Have you ever had any disagreements with him?"

"Every day," Coldwell said, smiling. "Robert and I have known each other since our post-graduate studies. We disagreed on almost everything even then, but we never let things go between us. When I knew he was going to go back teaching, I immediately offered him a course here. He is a great criminologist and an even greater friend."

Jack could not help but notice Coldwell's admiration and affection for his friend. _There was no grudge there_. "Did you know if anything was bothering him lately?"

"I don't know. He was a very private man. I know just what _he let me know_. We did have a discussion about a couple of threatening letters he received two weeks ago. It happens from time to time to both of us. We analyzed them and didn't consider the letters a real threat. But, because of those letters, I informed Special Agent Somerson as soon as I understood something wasn't right with Robert."

"Special Agent Somerson?"

"He's our contact at Quantico," Professor Coldwell said as he looked for Somerson's card on his desk.

"_Our_? Do you work with the FBI too?"

"Yeah, we've been in a special 'academic task force' since 9/11. At first we studied only terrorists' strategies, and then we helped also with organized crime," Coldwell said as he passed Somerson's card to Jack. "Really, I introduced Robert to the Bureau. I thought he would have been a great asset, and I wasn't wrong."

"Okay. I'll need to take a look at those letters. Do you know where he keeps them?"

"In his office. Anyway, I can give you a copy of them." Coldwell opened a drawer, took out a folder and handed it to Jack. "There are all the threats we received in the last years. We labeled them—orange, yellow, green—depending on their seriousness. I hope they can be useful."

"Thank you. Just a last question. When did you realize Professor Haumann was missing?"

"We had to meet this morning before the daily briefing. He insisted on delaying the presentation for the scholarships. We had to present them by Friday, but he said he still wasn't ready. He left me a message on the answering machine on Saturday. He wanted to discuss the three most promising students that he had this year. When he didn't show up, I knew something was wrong. Missing a meeting isn't like him, especially a meeting he had insisted on."

"Thank you. If you can think of something else, call me." Then, handing his card to the administrator, Jack added, "My cell phone number is on the back."

As soon as the CSI team left, Vivian started looking around Haumann's office. The room was small but quite filled with light. It reminded her of Marcus' first office at NYU. A green plant was just under the big window. Bookshelves filled the two walls. There were no photos and no awards. At first sight she could see the office was quite impersonal. Oddly enough, it just seemed a workplace. In her experience, college professors spent many hours in their offices. _Was Haumann different? Did he prefer to work at home? Or maybe had he a 'secret' place? _

Walking around the desk she took a look at the drawers. They had been forced. The CSI team had already taken pictures and checked for prints, but there was little hope to discover anything useful. Everything else was in place. _They knew what they were doing._ She took a mental note to ask Haumann's assistant if he knew what the professor kept in those drawers.

As she wondered where Professor Haumann's assistant was, Jack walked in.

"Anything new?" he asked.

"Someone forced the drawers, but I have no idea about what could be missing."

Jack took a quick look around him and then said, "His life is as exciting as mine."

"I thought the same. You should see Marcus' office. Nothing like this!"

Jack smiled. "A woman in a man's life does miracles!"

"What do you have there?" Vivian asked pointing at the bulky folder Jack had just laid on a chair.

"Threatening letters that Haumann and Coldwell received in the last years because of their collaboration with us. These are Coldwell's copies. Haumann should keep his copies here or maybe at home. I'll ask Sam to look for them at his apartment. Did you find anything here?"

"No, but they could be what is missing from these drawers."

"Right."

Jack and Vivian were deciding how to proceed when Danny joined them in the office.

"Hey. Nothing on the tapes from the cameras placed outside the building. But there are also cameras in the hallway, in each corridor and in the conference room. It will take time. The conference on Saturday was open to the public. There were a lot of people here."

"Okay. At least maybe we'll be able to see who entered here," Jack said.

"Did you notice you have an audience?" Danny asked, nodding toward the man sitting at a desk just outside the door. "When I arrived he was trying hard to listen to what you were saying. As soon as he realized I was coming here, he pretended to be busy on his computer."

"I think he is Haumann's assistant," Vivian said and then, skimming her notes, added, "Hugh Bryant. I was wondering where he was."

"Well, give him your full and undivided attention. I'll head back to the office. See you there," Jack said before leaving.

Vivian and Danny approached the desk outside the office.

"Hugh Bryant? Special Agents Johnson and Taylor, FBI."

The young man nodded and asked, "How can I help you?"

"Do you have any idea what Professor Haumann keeps in his desk drawers?"

"Documents, I think. And students' papers. Why?"

"The lock has been forced and the contents are missing. Do you know if Professor Haumann usually locks his office door?"

"Yeah, he does."

"But this morning it was open, right? I saw a schedule for today on his desk. Do you have a key?"

"Yes, I have the key. Professor Haumann usually arrives earlier than me, but today he had a briefing before classes and so I opened his office and left the schedule on his desk."

"Did you notice if the drawers were open?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just drop the schedule on the desk."

"What time did you arrive?"

"It was around 8:30. I was a bit late because of the traffic."

"Could you tell us if something is missing from the office?"

"Sure."

Looking around, the young man didn't notice anything missing. Vivian watched him intently. His answers were very short and carefully thought out. He didn't seem surprised by what they asked, almost as if he expected the questions and had the answers planned. Both Danny and Viv sensed that this man knew more than he was saying.

"Just one last thing. We were told that Professor Haumann usually invited his students to his apartment. Do you know anything about it?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, it's one of his projects to help the most promising students. It's really not the campus policy, but he usually chooses a group of five or six students every year. They meet twice a week at his apartment to analyze past and fictional cases. It's a study group. I help Professor Haumann set up all the material and often take part in those meeting."

"Can you give us their names?" Vivian asked.

"Sure. They should be in the lecture room now. If you want, I can escort you there."

"Perfect. Thank you."

_Professor Haumann's apartment_

"After talking with his neighbors I have a feeling that this Haumann is a very reserved person. And he just lives for his work," Sam said as she walked down the corridor behind Martin.

"Just another one," Martin replied and, as he used the key he had received from the police to open the door to the professor's apartment, added, "Maybe he'd like to join our club. I could sponsor him. Lately we lost a few members…"

"Funny," Sam ironically smiled and, as she walked in, continued, "Seriously, he also invites his students into his home. He is very dedicated."

The door led directly into the living room. The apartment was neat and orderly. Everything was in good taste but functional. There wasn't much decoration. Heavy curtains covered the two windows in the living room. Martin approached the windows and let the light of the day enter. Haumann's large collection of old movies and CDs caught his attention.

Samantha went to the kitchen. The only window had a view of the small garden outside. There were no dirty dishes in the sink. He probably didn't cook; there were soup cans in the cupboard, but a good selection of wine in a wine rack. Samantha opened the fridge. There were leftovers of Chinese take-out, a slice of pizza and beer. _For the students? _Samantha went back to the living room and looked around. Books were in perfect order on the shelves, filling the walls to the ceiling. A PC was on the large desk between the windows, but no laptop. There were no personal touches like family photos or mementos. There was a whiteboard with information about what Samantha assumed could be cases he was working on or maybe he was using for the study group; two leather armchairs were placed in front of a big flat screen TV.

"What do you think, Martin? The TV set is the only modern touch in the room aside from the PC, obviously," Sam said.

"Yeah, he has pretty classical tastes. I don't think we'll meet him in line to see _Avatar_ next December_. _He likes old movies and loves Beethoven and Brahms. He also has a soft spot for the Beatles," Martin replied.

"Did you notice how those cushions are scattered on the floor? I can see they have been there since the last study group." Sam could easily imagine the students sitting on them as the professor explained a case or encouraged them to start a discussion. "An informal setting like this is better than a cold classroom to draw out his students , especially the shy ones," Sam continued.

"Yeah, it's a good idea, but I'm wondering what the college policy would say about this," Martin replied.

Samantha nodded. Then turned her attention to the entrance, and said, "Take a look at the wall next to the door. There are plenty of photos of groups of his students. He really believe in future generations…"

"Yeah, Did you notice there are only boys in those photos?" Martin asked as he looked at the photos.

"Problems with the other sex? What do you think? Could he not be into women?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea. His neighbors didn't mention any female visitors."

"Right. They have seen him only with his students, probably the study group. The man who lives just opposite Haumann told me that they usually came twice a week after dinner and stayed late, but never bothered the other tenants," Sam added as she continued to look at the photos on the wall. A photo caught her attention. It was taken a few years earlier than the others and in a different place. _And Haumann was different_. Samantha couldn't put a finger on what made her feel that. Maybe he was just younger. She put aside her thoughts and as she turned toward Martin, said, "Jack told me to look for the threatening letters. They weren't in his office at John Jay."

Martin reached the desk and took the phone from his cradle.

"There is a message," Martin said and pushed to button to listen to the message.

"_Hey, Rob! It's Helen. I'll let you work. Don't bother for the car. You can give it back on our usual Tuesday dinner. Bye."_

"I'll check with the office," Sam said as Martin handed her the phone. The caller ID would provide _Helen_'s phone number.

Martin kept looking around, but there was no letter in sight, nothing in the drawers and nothing among Haumann's papers on his desk. Martin wondered if the professor had another office somewhere. His thoughts were interrupted by Sam's word.

"Helen Whitaker. She lives in Queens, but she works at John Jay College."

"Let's pay a visit to Ms. Whitaker," Martin replied.

"You don't need me. I'm sure you can work your charm on her without my help," Sam smiled and continued, "Drop me at the office. Jack needs help with the threatening letters. Elena told me that Danny and Viv are still at John Jay; they're busy with the _'study group', _" Sam said.

_John Jay College, NY_

The lecture room was crowded. Word-of-mouth had quickly spread around. There were students from all over the campus, curious to know something about the disappearance of the famous criminalist. Bryant led the two agents toward a group of students who were in an animated discussion.

"Hey guys! These are FBI agents. They'd like to ask you a few questions about the study group."

Vivian and Danny both noticed the way three of the students looked at Bryant. They were worried. _Were they trying to cover for something?_ Vivian decided to put a bit more of pressure on them.

"Why don't you and Mr. Bryant come to our offices? We could use your help going through Professor Haumann's papers."

Bryant couldn't hide his surprise. The students looked at him for a clue about how to answer.

"I think we can arrange that. We'll take the more recent cases. I just have to talk to the administrator first," Bryant answered and, after looking at his wrist, added, "We could be there just after lunch. Is it okay?"

Vivian and Danny nodded. "Sure, see you later then."


	8. Ep Two: Drag Me To Hell, part 2

Drag Me to Hell: Chapter Two

_FBI Headquarters, NY_

Samantha stepped out of the elevator and walked down the corridor straight to Jack's office. He was talking on the phone. She knocked on the open glass door to catch her boss's attention. Jack waved to Sam and gestured her to enter as he ended the phone call.

"So, anything useful?" he asked as he took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

"Haumann's building is like the Big Brother's house. There are cameras everywhere. I just left the tapes downstairs. No threatening letters, but a woman left a message on the answering machine. Apparently Haumann borrowed her car. Martin is going to talk with her."

"Good. At least there is something new."

"Techs said someone worked on his PC on Sunday. They are trying to find out if it was Haumann. The PC has been on all day, but Haumann could already have been missing,"she continued and then, opening the folder Techs had just given her, added, "This is the printout of the files that have been read. They are about an old case. They could be linked to his disappearance or maybe he was just preparing a lecture, we really don't know. I'll take a better look at them."

"Okay, check if there are any threatening letters linked to that case."

Samantha nodded. As she turned to leave, Detective Williams, Vivian's brother, walked in. He had to have Jack sign the release so he could take the files and the evidences that the Feds still had in custody back to NYPD. Samantha greeted him and while Jack signed the papers, she asked, "Did you identify the body you found in the park?"

"Yeah. It was a psychic, Alice Bernsen. She worked at Coney Island. Probably a robbery gone bad. She had a deep cut on her head. She had no purse, but we identified her thanks to a library badge she had in her pocket."

Samantha and Detective Williams, busy with their conversation, failed to notice Jack's reaction as he heard the woman's name. He stopped reading and lifted his head. He tried to remember where he had put the note about the woman who had asked for him. He took a mental note to check the name, but he was quite sure that it was the same—Alice Bernsen. Jack felt a shiver down his spine. _What did she have to tell him? Might it be linked to her death? _He needed to take a look at the report to learn more. _He would ask for it as soon as he was alone. _He signed the papers and handed them back to Detective Williams.

Samantha and Vivian's brother went out, leaving Jack to his thoughts.

###

_John Jay College, NY_

Martin was waiting for Helen Whitaker in the public area of the administrative offices. A middle-aged woman with curly red hair walked toward him. She took off her reading glasses and hung them on the chain around her neck as she approached the agent.

"I've been told that there is a handsome FBI agent looking for me. I guess I found him," the woman said nicely.

"I'm Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald," Martin smiled as he presented his credentials. "We need to ask you a couple of questions about Professor Haumann."

"Sure. How can I help you?"

"You left a message on Professor Haumann's phone on Monday morning. Did you lend your car to him?"

"Yeah, he sometimes borrows my car. It was my husband's. I just use it when I go to visit my sister in Philadelphia for Christmas and in the summer holidays."

"Do you know where he wanted to go?"

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't ask. He is a very reserved man. If he wants to let me know something, he tells to me. Otherwise I don't ask."

"Okay. I heard you have dinner together every Tuesday. I guess you're close." Martin looked at the woman. She blushed. Martin hid his smile and asked, "Do you know if anything was bothering him lately? Maybe something he was working on?"

"No, he was his usual self," she answered. Then she thought for a moment and continued, "Really, there was something that bothered him last Tuesday. He was worried about the scholarships. The deadline for the presentation was on Friday and he hadn't decided yet. It wasn't like him to be in doubt so late in the year. He told me he was thinking of going against college policy. I laughed. Almost everything he does is against the rules. But his unorthodox methods brought our college among the most recognized in the world. We have students from all over the world. And many of his past students are now well known investigators or experts."

"Just one last question. Why are these scholarships important? I mean, it's a great opportunity for the students, but why was it bothering him so much?"

"Because he knows that one of the students he selects will be given the scholarship with no questions asked. But he can choose just one of them," she answered.

Martin nodded his understanding, thanked Ms. Whitaker and handed her his card, "Please, call me if you can remember anything else." _Could the scholarship be linked to his disappearance? _Martin wondered if they had undervalued its meaning.

###

_FBI Headquarters, NY_

Samantha and Elena were sitting at the small conference table. Samantha was comparing dates and names she had found in the file that the techs had given her with the threatening letters Elena had already checked. There was nothing about that old case.

"Another dead end," a frustrated Sam said as she closed the folder with a sigh. "We are going nowhere. Let's hope Martin has more luck with Haumann's friend, or the security tapes would be our last chance to know something. We don't even know when the professor went missing."

Elena shared the same feeling of helplessness that Sam had so openly showed. She had spent two hours going through Haumann's finances, credit card movements and phone logs, but nothing was noteworthy. Then she had read all the threatening letters that Jack had brought in. "I spent hours reading all these letters. Just a couple of letters have some real threat in them, but they refer to old cases, big cases, something that could have raised red flags years ago. I can't see why they would be significant now."

"Maybe they are out of prison and they want revenge," Sam said as she took a look at the letters Elena had handed her.

"I checked. They are still in federal custody. I also checked if there are rumors on a hit on Haumann, but nothing."

As the two female agents talked, Vivian and Danny entered the bullpen.

"Hey, girls!" Danny said as he approached Elena. He squeezed her shoulders as she turned toward him. They shared a warm smile.

"Did you find anything?" Vivian asked, turning her attention to Sam. "Haumannn's students are on the way and we need something to work on with them."

"Nothing. We are sure he is missing, aren't we?" Sam replied as she leaned back on the chair and sighed.

Vivian smiled and, passing by her younger colleague, leaned a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We've just begun! And I'm confident the boys will help us. They know something."

Samantha's look followed Vivian as she went to her desk. Vivian was right. _Why was she giving up so easily on this case? It wasn't like her._ Jack's voice shook her off from her reverie .

"Martin just phoned. The car isn't in the parking space that Haumann usually uses. Martin put an APB on the car. We'll see if something comes out of it," Jack said as he joined his team at the conference table. Then, as he skimmed the threatening letters now scattered on the table, continued, "I talked with Quantico. Haumann was working on a high profile drug traffic case. As always, everything's top secret, but Somerson assured me that Haumann's disappearance can't be linked to their case."

"Okay, another dead end," Vivian said as she turned to answer her ringing phone.

"Is this Somerson reliable? Come on, Jack, how many times have they played us?" Samantha asked.

"Not this time. I think it'd be in their interest to tell us the truth. They called us after all," Jack replied.

"Yeah, whatever… It's just… I don't know, this case is bothering me more that it should. I'll go downstairs and see how the techs are doing with the tapes. I'm sure another pair of eyes will be handy."

"Right. As soon as Martin gets here I'll tell him to join you."

As Samantha nodded and left, Vivian ended her phone call.

"Haumann's students are here. An agent is bringing them to the visitors' room. How do you want to handle them, Jack?"

"Go in with Danny. I'll watch from outside. I want to see Bryant's reactions first."

#

Martin and Samantha were looking through the security tapes in the tech room.  
"Martin, check this out," Samantha called for her colleague. "Haumann left Saturday night. He was alone. He had an overnight bag and… what does he have in his hands? Are they keys? Maybe car keys? What do you think?"

"Yeah, they could be. If he left on Saturday, I wonder who worked on his computer on Sunday," Martin said, his eyes still fixed on the image.

"Let's watch the tapes. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment. Whoever used his computer had the keys to his apartment," Samantha replied as she deftly worked on the keyboard of the computer.

The two agents fast-forwarded the video of the camera on Haumann's floor until three young men appeared on the screen.

"Who are they?" Martin asked.

"They have the keys! Could they be Haumann's students?" Samantha asked.

"Just what I was thinking. I'll print a few image stills of them and I'll take them upstairs."

"Okay, I'll keep watching. I'll let you know."

Martin nodded, took the prints and left.

#

Jack was watching as Danny and Vivian talked with Bryant and the students. They had written on a notepad a list of cases that Haumann had made them analyze. Jack noticed that Bryant was always the first to answer, even if the question wasn't addressed to him. The students often looked at him before talking and their answers were almost always nothing but yes or no. Jack entered the room and shared a look with Vivian. It was enough to let her know what he was going to do—he wanted to interview Bryant.

"Mr. Bryant, can I talk to you in private?" Jack asked.

"Sure," the man answered. Then turning to the students, he said, "Help the agents in every way you can," and followed Jack outside.

As Jack was leading Bryant into his office, Martin called for him from the end of the corridor.  
"Jack, wait a minute. We found something." The younger agent had a folder in his hands.

"Mr. Bryant, can you take a seat in my office? I'll be right there." Bryant nodded and Jack walked toward Martin.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"Take a look here," Martin said as he opened the folder and handed it to Jack.

Jack looked at the images and felt anger rise inside. "Let's go." Jack opened his office door and told Bryant harshly, "Come with us." Then he went to the visitors' room with Martin on his heels. He stormed in and dropped the images on the table.

"Stop playing! What do they mean?" Jack almost shouted. "And I want the truth!"

"Agent Malone, Wait!" Bryant intervened, "There is something you have to know. The guys aren't involved in the professor's disappearance. It was all organized."


	9. Ep Two: Drag Me to Hell, part 3

Drag Me to Hell: Chapter Three

_FBI Headquarters, NY_  
_68 hours missing_

Jack was losing his patience. Vivian and Danny had been talking with Bryant and the students for more than an hour. Jack knew the man wasn't telling everything he knew. But this '_coup de théâtre'_ had surprised him. '_It was all organized'_, Bryant had said. What the hell did it mean? Was the disappearance orchestrated by the professor? Or by someone else? Jack looked at Bryant as the young man let himself drop on an empty chair.

"I made a mistake. A big mistake," Bryant said as he slowly shook his head. He was gathering the courage to continue.

"We are not in a therapy session! Start talking!" Jack made it clear that he had had enough.

Jack's abrupt words startled the young man. "Sorry," he said as he lifted his head and looked directly at Jack. "We had a plan."

"We?" Jack asked, frowning.

"Professor Haumann and I had a plan."

"What does _that _mean?" Jack was clearly annoyed.

"It was a test. Professor Haumann wanted to test his students' investigative skills and decided to disappear. He planned the whole thing."

"And?" Jack's patience was running thin. "Do you know where he is now?"

Bryant shook his head. "No, the students couldn't have any external help and he was afraid I could help them in some way."

"Do I still have to consider him _missing_?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Bryant's answer was resolute.

"Really? You seem to be damn sure for one who doesn't know anything."

"As I said before, I made a mistake. Professor Haumann hadn't checked with me since Saturday and nothing has gone as we had planned since then. I felt something was wrong, but then I thought he was just going to make things more difficult for the boys. When I saw that he wasn't here this morning, I should have told you everything immediately."

"Yeah, you should have." Jack sharply said as he got up. Then he turned to Vivian, Danny and Martin, "Take the boys downstairs and take their statements. Check everything they say."

As soon as they left the room, Jack turned again to Bryant. A deep, narrow line had appeared on the young man's forehead. He was nervously fiddling with a paperclip that had been in the files on the table.

"Okay, Mr. Bryant. It's just you and me now. You've wasted a lot of our time. I'm so angry now that I should lock up you and your friends downstairs. My agents spent the entire day looking through your papers, following the leads Haumann had left behind! And you knew they were false all along. Unbelievable!" Jack peered at Bryant as he slid a notepad in front of the young man. "Write down everyone involved in this _'test'_ and give me your cell phone. We'll need your computer, too. And the files _you_ took from Haumann's office."

Bryant did as he had been told and slid the notepad back to Jack with the three students' names. Jack read the names and turned his attention to Professor Haumann's assistant. "Do you think any of the students involved have found him and hurt him?"

"I can't be one-hundred per cent sure, but I really doubt it. They would have no reason. Whoever found him would gain a full scholarship. These boys are not exactly rich."

"Right. And you?"

"Me? He's my mentor. He taught me everything I know. Why should I want to hurt him?"

"I don't know. You tell me. Haumann was doing this to aid his students so they could have the opportunity to move forward. You, however, spent many nights grading student papers while Haumann took the credit. He used you. Could be a motive."

"It's not like that."

"No? Let me guess; you're a glutton for punishment," Jack said. "What did you do during the weekend?"

"Do I need an alibi?" Bryant asked nervously.

"What do you think?" Jack snorted.

Bryant nodded, realizing what his position was, and took a few seconds to think. "I was at the conference on Saturday. I worked in the office for a couple of hours after that. Then I went home. I received a message from Haumann later that night. He green-lighted the test."

"How did you two keep in contact? He didn't use his cell phone."

"We usually use a chat room. It's something a friend of his created a few years ago to exchange information between them quickly."

"I suppose it's installed on your computer."

Bryant nodded.

"Okay. Then? What did you do?" Jack asked.

"I prepared the messages for McGrath, Flores and Jones as Haumann had told me. I sent them the morning after and I met the students in the library hall at noon. I gave them the three envelopes that Haumann had left for them; I told them the rules and wished them good luck. I went back home to get ready to leave to spend Memorial Day with a few friends. We went to the beach. I came back last night."

"Write down your friends' names. Does anyone else know about this plan?"

"No, it was just us."

"I'll take your cell phone. An agent will escort you to your apartment to get your computer and the papers," Jack said without giving Bryant a chance to answer. He picked up the notepad and Bryant's cell phone and left.

#

Jack walked to the conference table where Elena was gathering up the papers that had provided the bad leads.

"Elena, this is Bryant's cell phone," Jack said as he dropped the phone on the table, "Have the techs check it out."

"Okay. Anything else?" Elena said picking up Bryant's phone.

"Bryant wrote down a few names of friends of his with whom he spent the weekend," Jack said as he looked at the notepad he had with him and then added, "Check them out!"

"Leave it here. I'll go through them as soon as I drop the phone downstairs."

Jack nodded and turned to leave when Martin, Danny and Vivian entered the bullpen.

"Everything corresponds. They didn't contradict each other. The guys are clear," Martin stated.

"I hoped to get something from them but they were very far from finding the professor. He didn't leave them more than a couple of hints. My guess is that he became distracted by something or someone else." Vivian added.

"Yeah, I think so. Bryant told me that Haumann wasn't supposed to vanish without leaving any clue. The students had to follow a few leads, but after talking with the guys, Bryant realized that Haumann had drastically changed his plan." Jack said.

"What now?" Danny asked.

"We still have the car and…"

"Jack, we have something," Samantha's voice interrupted Jack. "The Highway Patrol has videos showing the car Haumann borrowed leaving I-87 Northway, exit 25 and then re-entering I-87 about 3 hours later on Saturday night."

"Good. Finally something promising! Danny and Martin, go there and look for any place Haumann could have stopped. It was late evening when he left his apartment. Maybe he ate something. Vivian, check if Haumann knows anyone living there, look through phone logs, emails, anything you can think of," Jack ordered and then turned his attention to Samantha, who was busy looking at her computer screen, "Sam, what do you have there?"

"I want to look at Haumann's previous occupations. He suddenly stopped teaching and moved quite often before settling here in New York. It's a long shot, but maybe there is a reason to his travelling around the country."

"Keep it up and let me know if you find something," Jack said as he turned and walked away toward his office.

#

Elena and Samantha were talking about the case, confronting what they had discovered.

"You know, I can't understand why Haumann declined an offer to teach at Harvard. People would kill to have that position and he just dropped it," Sam said as she tiredly rubbed her forehead.

"Maybe he didn't want to teach," Elena replied.

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "You had to see his apartment. He lives for his work. I don't buy it. Something happened there. A secretary told me that Haumann didn't get along with the rector. But it was late and there wasn't anyone else I could talk to. She'll send Haumann's file with a few names of peoples who worked there at the time."

"Good. Maybe there is a dirty secret in Haumann's past!" Elena joked.

"Maybe. What do you have?" Sam asked.

"Bryant's friends confirmed his alibi and the techs are still working on his computer. They should confirm he worked on it on Saturday night and Sunday morning. It's 7pm, I doubt we'll have anything else for tonight. I'll let Jack know that Bryant's alibi has been checked out and I'll go home."

Samantha was going to wish a good night to her colleague, when her phone rang. She waved goodbye to Elena as she answered.

Samantha closed the phone with a new-found positive attitude. Maybe they were finally on the right track. Martin and Danny had found something. Someone had recognized Haumann as a client at a diner in Chestertown, a few miles from the interstate. Sam was walking down the corridor toward Jack's office to let him know the new lead, when she abruptly stopped. Hanna and Jack were talking in his office. Their talking soon became a heated exchange with Jack clearly exaggerating his reaction as Hanna probably snapped harshly at him. The girl was angry with her father. She shouted something to Jack and stormed out.

Jack threw the pen he had in his hand on the desk. He passed his hands through his hair and then leaned back on his chair. He stared at the ceiling.

Samantha didn't even realize she had started walking. She sprinted toward the elevators as an unexpected feeling of anxiety overtook her. She pushed the button and waited for the doors to open. Just a few days earlier she had made the decision not to interfere in Jack's personal life and now she was running after his angry teenage daughter. _What if Hanna went back to Chicago?_ Sam stepped into the elevator and selected the lobby button. _Would she be able to resist the impulse to reach out to a sad and disillusioned Jack_? And she knew way too well where that had always led them in the past. If she wanted a real chance with Brian, Hanna would have to stay in New York.

By the time Samantha reached the lobby, Hanna was already out of the building. Sam went outside and looked around, but Hanna was nowhere to be seen. Samantha was turning to go back to the office when she spotted a young girl partially hidden by a column as she lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

"Hanna, hey." Samantha slowly approached the girl with her hands in her pockets.

Hanna turned toward Samantha and rolled her eyes. "Just perfect!" she said. She threw the cigarette on the ground and smashed it out with her foot. Then she sharply asked, "Did he send you after me?"

"No, _he_ doesn't even know I'm here. I just saw you storming out from the office."

"And so?"

"Are you all right?" Sam softened. If she wanted to make Hanna confide in her she had to avoid a confrontation.

"Why should you care?" Hanna's sharp words were those of an angry and hurt teenager.

"It's just that…," Sam sighed and continued, "I know your father. He can be very impulsive. He often says things without thinking." Sam's mind went back to the past, to every time that Jack had shut her out from his life, making her feel like a stranger and not someone he cared for. He always shut out those who loved him.

"Right! I forgot that there is always someone defending him!"

"Look, Hanna, I don't want to defend your father and I don't want to fight with you. I thought you could use someone to talk to. And, maybe you could see his point of view."

"Right. I forgot. '_Jack's whisperer'_ is talking. But haven't you lost your touch lately?"

"Maybe. 'Wanna test my residual powers?" Samantha realized she had made a crack in Hanna's defenses. It was time to take a risk. "There is a cafeteria just around the corner. Why don't we grab something? It's almost dinner time."

"Don't bother to waste _your precious time _with me. My father has been clear-you're in the middle of a high profile case, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but I also have to eat." Sam took her phone and dialed Jack's number. "Jack, I'm out to grab something to eat. I'm waiting for Haumann's previous college to fax us his file. There is something that doesn't sound right. Could you have someone checking the machine? Danny and Martin called. They found something. There is a waitress that noticed Haumann's car. It was blocking her exit from the parking garage. They are waiting for the waitress who has the next shift. She was the one who served Haumann. They should call soon. I'll be back in half an hour. Do you want anything?"

"A bottle of scotch?" was Jack's sarcastic reply.

"I thought you had one in your office," Sam turned toward Hanna and couldn't help a smile.

"I'm pouring the last drop just now."

"See you." She closed the phone and walked toward the cafeteria with Hanna.

###

_I-87, Chestertown, NY_

Martin and Danny were sitting at the bar, waiting for the waitress to come in for her shift.

"It's a nice place," Danny said after looking around. "I wonder why Haumann chose this place. There are plenty of places to eat on the interstate. Had he been here before? Maybe he brought that friend of his… what is her name? Annie? Emily?"

"Helen," Martin absently corrected his colleague.

"Right, Helen." Danny looked at his friend and noticed Martin's distant expression. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure. Why shouldn't it be?"

"No idea. You seem worried."

"It's just the case. It's almost 8pm and we aren't even an inch closer to finding Haumann than we were this morning."

Danny pretended to buy Martin's answer, but he knew his friend. There was something that was bothering him.

"Let me use my investigative powers. That look on your face has '_women problems_' written all over it. Am I right?"

"My father called. ADA Kellerman is collecting the papers for Kim Marcus' trial. He'll need our statements. The DA's offices will call us in the next few weeks for our statements."

"'Nuff said," Danny reassured his friend.

Martin nodded thankfully. He didn't feel like going through everything again, but telling Danny gave him a sense of relief.

"Are you the FBI agents who are looking for me?" A good-looking brunette approached Martin and Danny.

"What gave us away? It's your fault!" Danny said turning to his colleague, "I told you to wear your Hawaiian shirt!" Danny joked. Then, flashing a smile to the young woman, he added, "Miss Carol Foster, I suppose."

"That would be me."

She told them that a man had confronted Haumann at the diner on Saturday night…

… _I had just taken an order and was going to leave it at the bar when I noticed a man walking in. He stopped on the doorway and scanned the room. I was going to ask him if he wanted a table, when I realized he was looking for someone. Just the look on his face sent a shiver down my spine. He stared at his target coldly as he brushed past me and almost knocked me down. _

"_Do you remember me?" the man asked. His voice was full of hatred. _

"_No, I'm sorry," the older man at the table replied…_

"I heard just a few words of their exchange, when their voices became louder. The older man was confused at first. But then I'm sure he recognized the other man because when I was back with the order, they were sitting together. They had talked for an hour maybe when the younger man got up and went away."

"What did Professor Haumann do?" Danny asked.

"He ordered a bourbon, he stayed a little bit more and then left."

Martin showed the waitress a photo of Bryant, but she didn't recognize him. Disappointed, he asked the waitress if she would be able to work with an FBI artist to get and identikit of the man.

"Sure. I'll never forget his face," the waitress said.

"We'll send an agent to escort you to our offices tomorrow morning." Martin said. Then he took note of her phone number and address. He thanked her and the two agents left.

They were back to square one. They had hoped the waitress would recognize Bryant since there was a hole in his alibi. He could have met Haumann there, fought with him, hurt him, hid the body and been back to New York in time for the meeting with the students on Sunday morning. But the man that the waitress had seen had dark hair and blue eyes, he was thin, scruffy… totally different from anyone involved in the case so far. The waitress had been sure they knew each other. Martin and Danny shared the same thought -_Who was he?_

* * *

**A/N**: thanks again to Diane and Sharon, my awesome "betas", and to everyone who is reading this. I hope you're enjoying yourself, at least a bit! ;)


	10. Ep Two: Drag Me to Hell, part 4

A/N: here we are, this is the end of the second episode. Huge thanks to my awesome 'betas' Sharon and Diane. This has been a hard chapter. I realized that my missing person couldn't help me. He couldn't explain what happened! I hope you understand the hard and painful situation he was in.

For Alice: I think you are talking about Eric Keller. It didn't occur to me that the name I chose was similar.

* * *

Drag Me to Hell: Chapter Four

_FBI Headquarters, NY  
85 hours missing_

Carol Foster had worked with an FBI artist and the result was now in Martin's hand. He stared for a long time at the face in the drawing.

"Here it is. This is our man," Martin said as he placed the drawing on the board and stepped back.

"Was there anything to help us put a name to the face? Any license plate from the parking lot or a credit card receipt?" Vivian asked as she rolled her chair to the conference table.

"Nothing. No video surveillance and no receipts. He didn't order anything," Martin replied as he joined Vivian.

"We should change the DOD," Vivian stated. "Last seen at 10:12 pm on the I-87 Northway, after Chestertown." She made note of the information on the board.

"He didn't sign in to any hotel. We know he didn't try to cross the Canadian border, but anywhere else it's even odds," Martin said.

"It's a wide area, with many woods and many lakes. Without leads, his students would never find him!" Vivian stated.

"And if he had a heart attack or something, it could take days, if not weeks, before we find him," Martin added.

"If nothing comes up in the next few hours, this case will become cold very quickly," Viv stated.

As Martin and Vivian pondered where their missing person could have gone, Samantha passed by the conference table with a steaming cup of coffee. She stood near her desk and sipped her coffee as she looked at the picture on the board.

"Wait a moment," Sam said as she set the cup on her desk and walked closer to the board to have a better look at the drawing. "I've seen this face… But where?"

Sam's mind went through all the photos and videos she had seen investigating this case and she remembered a photo that had caught her attention. It was at Haumann's apartment. It was different from the other pictures hung on the wall. Haumann was definitely younger and displayed a warm and genuine smile. He was at ease among the boys. Realization hit her.

"I know where I saw him. Martin, let's go to Haumann's apartment. Do you remember all the photos hung on the wall? This man is in one of those pictures."

#

"Hey, Jack," Vivian said, catching her boss' attention, as she walked into his office. "Martin and Sam gave our man a name, Nicholas Perkins. He had been one of Haumann's student a few years ago, when the professor was still an assistant at Harvard. According to DMV, he lives here in New York."

"What are you waiting for? Bring him in!"

"Martin and Danny are on the way," Viv smiled.

"Good. Let me know when he's here."

Vivian nodded and, before leaving, added, "Jack, I'll be away for the weekend. I have Danny covering for me."

Jack lifted his head. "Okay," he said. "I'll take your name off the on-call list." He smiled and, going back to his paperwork, added, "Say '_hi_' to Marcus for me."

#

As soon as Martin and Danny came back with Perkins, Vivian alerted Jack. They were walking down the corridor toward the elevators when Jack's voice stopped Vivian as they passed the glass door of the bullpen.

"Just a moment. Let me leave this for Elena," Jack said, showing an envelope.

"I thought it would take more time," Vivian said as she realized it was Elena's transfer.

"Me too," Jack said as he walked to Elena's desk.

Vivian waited for her boss at the doorway. "Do you think there is something else behind this '_speedy_' transfer, Jack?"

"You know Olczyk loves to make my life easy." Jack shrugged as they walked down the corridor.

"Taking out an agent in the middle of a case is plain stupid," Vivian said.

Jack lifted his eyebrows as he pressed the button to call the elevator. "Do I have to reply?"

"Better not." _Same old Jack. _Vivian couldn't help a smile as they stepped into the elevator.

#

Martin and Danny were waiting outside the interrogation room when Jack and Vivian joined them.

"Okay. Go inside and make him talk," Jack said to his agents as he looked through the glass at the man inside the room.

Perkins stood against the wall, his hands in his pockets. His look wandered around the room. He sighed as Martin and Danny entered the room.

"He seems pretty calm to me. He doesn't look like he is '_hiding a body in his basement_'," Vivian said.

Jack nodded and wondered if they were ever going to find Haumann. If Perkins wasn't of any help, a happy ending would be extremely difficult.

"Mr. Perkins, take a seat," Danny said as he dropped the folder he had with him on the table.

"Why am I here?"

"Do you know Professor Robert Patrick Haumann?" Danny asked.

"_In another life_. He was my professor ages ago."

"Have you seen him recently?"

"No."

Danny took a picture from the folder, looked at it and showed to Martin. "Do you notice any resemblance?" He said as he nodded toward Perkins.

"Uhmm. Let me see. Mr. Perkins, maybe you can help us. Have you ever seen this man?" Martin asked as he slid the sheet to Perkins.

"Maybe into a mirror?" Danny added as soon as the man looked at it.

"What does this mean?" Perkins asked as he shifted his look from Danny to Martin.

"Mr. Perkins, let's put our cards on the table. We have already wasted enough time. Haumann was your professor at Harvard. We knew you had a fight with him on Saturday night in a diner in Chestertown. What happened next?" Martin asked.

"Nothing," Perkins answered.

"Right. Let me guess. You waited for him outside the diner. Maybe you did something to his car. You followed him. When he stopped, you confronted him again because you didn't like how things ended inside. What was it about? Money? Blackmail? You hit him and hid the body. Where is he?" Martin asked.

Perkins looked up at Martin with an amused expression. "You have quite an imagination! Are you going to press charges anytime soon?"

"What do you think?" Danny asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"I want a lawyer."

Martin and Danny left the interview room and joined Jack and Vivian in the corridor.

"Viv, go upstairs and help Sam dig into Perkins' past. We need something or he will be out as soon as his lawyer steps into the building. Martin, keep an eye on Perkins and make him _comfortable_. I'll call the judge. We need a warrant. Hold on a moment, Danny," Jack said as he turned to his agent, and added, "This morning Elena's transfer came through."

Jack walked away, leaving Danny just staring.

#

_88 hours missing_

"Perkins' lawyer is here. What do you have? Sam?" Jack asked as he entered the bullpen and walked toward his team's desks.

"He got a scholarship to Harvard but dropped out a year later. He graduated from Hudson County Community College but never completed a bachelor's degree. He got married, had two children and divorced five years later. The ex-wife moved back with the children to her parents' house in Buffalo after the divorce. There is a report for domestic violence—their neighbors called the police-but it had no follow up. He did a lot of jobs. It seems like he can't keep a job for more than a few months. Currently unemployed. Harvard is the only link with Haumann. I asked for more information. The college should fax it within minutes."

"Viv?"

"He calls his children every night at the same hour. He has never phoned Haumann, not at home nor at the university. There is a recurring phone number in his phone records. I checked it out. Perkins is an ex-alcoholic. I talked with his sponsor and he said that Perkins was going through a rough period and he was afraid to slip into it again."

"Danny?"

"He is broke. He is in debt and lost the house after the divorce. His credit card movements don't show anything relevant," Danny said as a notification from his computer asked for attention. He checked the incoming message and a still image of Perkins was there. "And last but not least, he was at Haumann's conference! He is on the security tapes," Danny continued with a proud smile on his face as he turned the screen of his computer toward Jack. "I asked techs to check the tapes out again."

"Good job! Loving, but broken dad, alcoholic, maybe violent. We have the _opportunity_, but not the _motive_," Jack stated. "Put everything you found out in a folder. Let's see if we can pull a rabbit out of his top hat." Then, turning to Sam, he added, "Let me know as soon as you hear something from Harvard."

Jack walked away, leaving his agents trying to figure out what Perkins' _motive_ could be.

"There hasn't been any contact for what? More than ten years? And now suddenly Perkins feels the need to face Haumann? Why? This doesn't make any sense," Samantha said.

"I bet something happened when they were both at Harvard. But I have no idea why Perkins waited for so long," Danny said.

"Maybe it's something that he tried to forget," Vivian replied as she kept working.

Samantha and Danny shared a nod. _It could be_.

"Perkins quit Harvard after having worked very hard to get the scholarship. It's Harvard we're talking about, guys! He had to have some numbers or he wouldn't have been chosen in the first place. There has to be a good reason for dropping out," Sam stated.

"Drugs? Maybe he needed money and got in trouble," Danny guessed.

"I'd say more like a traumatic event…" The ring of a fax interrupted Samantha's reasoning. "Maybe this fax will tell us something," Sam said as she walked to the machine. She took the printout and started reading it.

"Anything useful?" Vivian asked, lifting her eyes from the computer screen she was working on.

"Maybe. I have to make a few phone calls," Sam said as she sat at her desk and got started on the phone.

#

Jack and Martin were sitting in front of Perkins and his lawyer.

"What do you want from my client?"

"We have a witness that saw your client having a heated argument with Haumann on Saturday night. What was it about?" Jack asked.

"Nothing, we just talked about the _old times_."

"Really? You were at the conference at Haaren Hall. You followed Haumann upstate because you just wanted to say hi?" Jack lifted his eyebrows.

The buzz of the interphone interrupted the questioning. Jack shared a quick look with Martin, sighed and picked up the phone.

"Yeah?"

"_There were rumors about Haumann's leaving. The rector was going to officially rebuke Haumann for his behavior with his students. It had been a motive of friction from the beginning. Apparently the professor was too friendly and too close to his students. I talked with someone who was there at the time and she told me that Haumann was reported for having a close relationship with one of his students. There is no need to say it wasn't exactly in accordance with the college policy, even more because it was a male student. Perkins dropped out of Harvard just the semester after Haumann left. Jack, I have had an odd feeling since the first time I saw that photo at Haumann's. There was something going on between Haumann and those students. And Perkins was there. He knows what happened_," Samantha said.

"Okay," Jack said as he hung on the phone. He went back to his seat.

"Mr. Perkins, are you going to tell us what you and Professor Haumann talked about? Or should I start guessing?"  
Jack looked at Perkins and read uncertainty. The man just needed a little push.  
"Were you going to blackmail Haumann?"  
_Could he trust Sam's gut feeling?_ Jack carefully observed Perkins' reaction and continued, "You and Haumann were '_very close_' back at Harvard, weren't you? You had a very special relationship."

"He won't answer that," the lawyer intervened.

Perkins passed his hands through his hair and breathed a heavy sigh. "Yes, I will answer. I'm tired. When I left the diner, Haumann was perfectly fine. I hope I left him something to think about."

"I'm all ears. Start talking!" Jack said.

"I didn't plan to meet Haumann. I was working as a bartender at the conference. One of my friends had provided me with that job. I didn't know who the speaker was until I went there. I saw him—Professor Robert P. Haumann. He was on the podium, dressed in his elegant suit. Unaware, or maybe proud of all those people listening to him. I watched them. Students, professors, police authorities, politicians and all kind of people hanging on every word as if he had a magic formula for ending crime.

… "…_It's important to prevent young people from starting a life of crime. Children and teenagers must be our first priority. We have to help them, support them and guide them. They have to believe that a better world is possible..."…_

"Just words, nothing else," Perkins said with clenched teeth as rage took over him. "The man they idolized had ruined my life!"

"So you met him at the conference. Did you talk to him?" Jack asked as nudging Perkins to go on.

"No, I waited until the end of the conference and followed him. He went home. I was going to get out of the car and ring his bell, but he went out again with an overnight bag. I took my car and went after him. He took the I-87 and when he exited the interstate and stopped at the diner, I parked and waited. I sat in my car and wondered what I was doing there. What did I want to do? Talk to him? Accuse him? And then? Maybe he didn't even remember me. I started the engine to leave but I saw a family with two children. I thought about my kids and what he had cost me. I lost it. I got out of the car and entered the diner. I looked for Haumann and took a seat at his table without saying anything. He was confused. He didn't have any idea about who I was. Of course!...

… "_Do you remember me?" I coldly asked.._

"_No, I'm sorry," he answered. Then realization hit him. "Wait… Nick! How many years has it been?"_

"_Too many," I sharply answered._

"_What a coincidence! How are you? Please, take a seat with me."_

"_It's not a coincidence. I was at your conference at Haaren Hall. I followed you from New York," I explained as I sat at the table._

"_I don't understand… why didn't you approach me at the conference?"_

"_I was busy. I was working at the buffet." _

"_Oh, I understand. What happened? You were one of the brightest student I ever had." _

_I realized Haumann had really no idea of how much pain he had caused to me._

"_Do you want to know what happened to me? Let's see if I can refresh your memory. When I was at Harvard I fell in love with a person. I fell hard. It was my first time. I was scared to death and stupid enough to believe that he loved me too. Did it ring any bell?"_

_Haumann's eyes shadowed. He bent down his head. I couldn't say if he was guilty or just embarrassed._

"_After you left without any warning, I went through a rough period. My grades went downhill, I lost my scholarship and had to drop out of Harvard. I got a two-year degree at a community college near home, but I lost my purpose. I got married and I divorced before I had the chance to understand what was happening. My wife hates me because I ruined her life too. I couldn't keep a job. I lost my children."_

"_Are you saying it's my fault?" Haumann asked. He was surprised. _

"_No, it's mine. I trusted you. I didn't only care for you, you were also my mentor. I idolized you. I realize just now how selfish you are. You gave me a 'great lesson'—I have never trusted or confided in anyone again. Not even my wife. And that has been the worst mistake I ever made."…_

Perkins stopped talking.

"How did Haumann react?" Jack asked.

Perkins smirked. "I scored! I saw his expression quickly change. I'd say he was upset and afraid at the same time. His look was sad and unfocused. I didn't recognize him. I doubt that his reaction was just about what happened to me. I think I just opened his Pandora's box. I left as he ordered his second bourbon."

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?" Jack asked.

"The only place I can think of is an old cabin on Schroon Lake. It was a few miles south of Meadow Cove. He organized a trip for our class during the spring break."

"Stay here, we could need you again," Jack said before leaving the room with Martin.

"Do you believe him?" Martin asked as soon they were out.

"Yes," Jack answered, leaving an astounded Martin behind.

###

_Meadow Cove, NY  
92 hour missing_

The local police had found Haumann's car in the parking lot near the lake. Jack, Martin and Danny went past it and reached the secluded cabin in the woods. The lights were on. They looked through the windows, but couldn't see clearly inside. Jack knocked on the front door. No answer.

"Professor Haumann? FBI. Open up," Danny called out as he knocked again on the wood door.

"Let's get in!" Jack ordered.

They broke in, aiming their guns. As they stepped in a sour smell overtook them. Shubert's _Ave Maria _was playing in the background. Jack stopped in the doorway, knowing well what would come next. Danny and Martin walked to the back of the armchair in the middle of the room. An old photo book was open on the coffee table and many pictures were scattered around. An empty bottle of bourbon was on the floor next to the armchair. A broken glass was on the floor.

"He shot himself with a shotgun," Martin said.

"I think he was dead before we were called," Danny added as he pushed the replay button of the CD player to stop the music.

Jack nodded and told the locals to call the medical examiner; then, turning to his agents, he added, "Forensics will be here soon. Take a quick look around. Our job is done. We found our missing person."

"There is a note here," Martin said and started reading.

_**I'm sorry**__. I now realize how selfish I have been for all these years. I never thought of the consequences of my actions-neither in my professional life nor in my private life. I lied and hurt so many people. I cannot make amends for what I have done._

###

_Downtown Manhattan, NY – 7:00 PM_

Jack and the women of his squad were gathered around a table in one of the many bars near their office. Martin and Danny had collected the orders and were in line at the counter.

"I'm sorry to leave. It was like being a family," Elena said

"You can always divorce and stay with us!" Vivian joked.

"Good idea! If Danny agrees..," Elena replied, smiling.

"No, please... It took 13 years to me to see this, but he has finally sorted himself out... and you want him to divorce after less than a month? Women..," Jack said shaking his head as the women burst into laughter.

"He will always be our _Casanova_!" Vivian said.

"Will it be safe leaving him alone?" Elena jokingly asked.

"Don't worry, Elena, we'll keep an eye on Danny-boy for you," Sam smiled to her friend as Danny and Martin joined them, bringing their drinks.

Jack took his glass and started, "It's something that had to happen sooner or later. A toast to a new job!"

"To old friends!" Elena replied as their glasses clinked together.

Jack's phone vibrated. He took it from his pocket. There was a message from his daughter. He looked at his watch; it was time to go home.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. See you tomorrow, kids!" Jack said as Elena stood up and hugged him, catching him off guard. Everyone couldn't help a smile looking at them.

Jack turned to leave and Sam followed him with her gaze. She had an idea on what would wait for him at home and hoped it would end for the better. Jack had to learn how to talk with his daughters. She had talked to Hanna and prevented the girl from moving back to Chicago immediately, but it was up to Jack now. She wouldn't be always there to fix his mess. _Good luck, Jack._


	11. Interlude Two

**Jack**

Jack was sitting on his sofa with his head pressed against the back and his legs stretched out on the coffee table. The TV was on the news channel but he had no idea what they had said in the last hour. His third glass of scotch was clutched in his right hand. He would have a heavy headache the following day, but it didn't bother him. As soon as he had left the bar, he had read Hanna's message. She had informed him not to hurry home, she wouldn't be there. She needed time to think and cool down. She was at Ashley's. The telephone number was written on a post-it stuck on the fridge. He had called the number and Ashley's mom had reassured him that Hanna would stay with them for a couple of days. Jack had thanked her and then asked for Hanna. Her voice hadn't been as cold as he had feared. Someone had talked to her. He had swallowed his pride and told his daughter he had been too impetuous and they would talk as soon as she wanted to come back home.

That afternoon had been maybe the hardest time of his life. He had a fight with his eldest daughter in his office. Hanna wanted Shay, her boyfriend, to come to New York. There was an art class at the _School of Art_ for the summer. She was sure Shay would be accepted. His drawings were very good. Jack knew Shay was a good artist, but Hanna had forgotten a minimal detail—Shay had still to serve at least ten months of 'community service' and he had to report to his probation officer in Chicago. Jack would have to take responsibility for the boy or they wouldn't let him move to New York. It wouldn't be simple. And even if they granted his moving, how could Jack take responsibility for him? He had a full-time job and couldn't spend his time checking on him. And he was not having luck relating to Hanna. No need to say that Jack was more than happy with Shay in Chicago and Hanna in New York.

But Jack hadn't told his daughter anything of that. He hadn't even let Hanna finish talking. He had just told her '_no_'. It wasn't open to discussion as far as Jack was concerned. She was angry and let her father know it. She told him he was a hypocrite; he would never change. He had spoken about 'sharing' and 'knowing', but he just wanted to control everything and everyone. Then she fired the crucial shot…

…"_You're a control freak! You'll always be alone! Not even Samantha can stand your incessant prying into her life. And she is the one who always forgives you. Why can't you just be there for the people around you?" _

"_Hanna, stop it!" Her words hurt more than I let her see. She scored and I'm not even sure she knew what she was saying. I wore my 'I'm shutting down now' face. "It's neither the time nor the place. I'm in the middle of a case. We'll talk at home." _

"_You might think you are good at your job, but you suck at your life!__" she shouted and stormed out… _

He had seen her exit the office. He had felt drained. All that he had been able to do was throw the pen he had in his hand in an attempt to ease the anger and the feeling of defeat. _I'm in the middle of a case_. Would he ever stop saying this phrase to the members of his family? His wife had been right all along—he always used his job as a way to avoid a confrontation.

Hanna was right. He was a hypocrite. He wasn't able to confide in his daughter. He couldn't even talk with her.

Why couldn't he hold on to those he loved? They always left him… except Sam. He left her. Why? He didn't think he could share his life with her and with his daughters. Right. Would it be really difficult with both Hanna and Sam in his life? Samantha's relationship with Hanna was better than his.

Anyway, he just beat her to it. She was going to leave him too. But that was predictable. Why would Sam choose him over Brian? It wouldn't make sense. What could he offer to Sam anyway? A stepmother role and a questionable stepfather for her son. A part time husband and a part time father? Would he be any different for Sam? She deserved better and she knew Finn deserved better. Brian was her son's father and Jack had chosen his family over her when he had to. Why shouldn't she? Things hadn't turned out well for him, but he was sure Sam would be able to do better.

He had played for some time with the idea of having a second chance to be better father to Finn than he was with his girls, but as Brian had come again into Sam's life, all Jack's doubts and fears had the best of him. He hid behind the excuse of letting her have her space and with Hanna coming to live with him, he stepped back. Samantha needed someone who helped her and Brian was living with her. He was young, good looking, Finn's father… how much time would Sam need to understand she had feelings for him? Jack knew Samantha. Despite what she had always said, she craved for a family. Something she never really had and didn't feel she deserved. He left Sam because he felt it was what she wanted. She wanted to try the family thing, and she had the right to do it.

She told him she wasn't sure if she was okay with their break-up. Jack knew what she meant. He felt the same, but even if he loved Sam, he knew he was not good for her; they were not good for each other. She seemed happy with Brian and Jack wanted her happy. He had to give her the chance to make a new life for herself.

After what happened the year before, he was looking for something in his life and, as usual, there was Sam. She needed someone who could stay next to her and her son. He tried but he was a man alone and, at this point, he was afraid he always would be. If he got back with Sam, maybe he would again lose Hanna. He had so many years to make up for with his daughter. He had to fix things with Hanna and Kate, and he could not put that burden on Sam.

"_He's not Jack Malone…"_ Sam's words echoed in Jack's mind.

_Yeah, good for you, honey_. He reached for the bottle of scotch.


	12. Ep Three: Skins, part 1

**A/N**: huge thanks to my beloved 'betas', Sharon and Diane, this time I made them go through a lot of work in a very short time. You're awesome! ((hugs))

* * *

SKINS: Chapter One

_Jack Malone's apartment - Saturday 5:00 AM_

Jack was startled from a deep sleep. The ring of his cell phone caused an automatic reaction. He stretched his arm to reach the phone before it woke Hanna and answered without even lifting his head off the pillow. A teenage girl, Christine Butler, fifteen years old, disappeared from the Jonas Brothers' concert at Madison Square Garden.

Jack sat up on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the sleep from his eyes and started organizing his thoughts. The girl disappeared from Manhattan, but she lived in Brentwood. Vivian had taken the weekend off and he did not want to call her in for the moment. He decided to send Martin and Danny to the site. He called Samantha with instructions to meet him at the family's home in Brentwood. He stood up and headed toward the bathroom, slowly shaking his head– another weekend stolen by his job. Hanna would not be happy. As soon as she came back home, he was called in. Perfect.

###

_Brentwood, NY  
7 ½ hours missing_

An hour and half later, Jack entered the Butlers' kitchen and found Christine's parents there. With his many years in the MPU, he still hated this part – interviewing the parents of a missing child. The best he could do was to keep the conversation professional.

"We told her she couldn't go. She's too young!" The mother was sitting at the table, her head buried in her hands. She was a typical middle class mother, probably just gone back to work, after being a stay-at-home mom since her first child's birth.

"And she took Liz! She's only ten! Why? Why is Christine so irresponsible? I told her concerts are dangerous!" The father stood beside the counter. He couldn't keep still. Jack could see he felt angry and guilty – a life dedicated more to his job than to his family. And all was falling apart.

"It's your fault! Couldn't you take her there?" she asked. "But no, you have no time for your daughters!" The woman's demeanor changed quickly. Jack's mind flashed back to his own kitchen several years before. He and Maria had the same heated discussion over and over.

"Don't start!" The husband was trying to avoid an argument, but Jack knew only too well what would follow.

"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Butler, this isn't of any help." Drawing his credentials from his pocket, he introduced himself, "I'm Special Agent Jack Malone. I'm in charge of this investigation. We are here to find your daughter. I'd like to see Christine's room. Mrs. Butler, could you show me the way, please?"

"Sure, this way," the woman said, wiping the tears with her hands as she rose from the chair and escorted Jack up the stairs. She stopped in front of a door. A '_keep out'_ warning was hanging on it. The woman's trembling hand was on the handle, but she couldn't quite open the door. "I'm sorry, Agent Malone. This is so crazy! We never go out, but yesterday Philip phoned me. His boss invited him, and he couldn't say no. I looked for a babysitter, but Chrissy was so against it. She told me fifteen is old enough to babysit. We had been fighting all day over stupid, petty things. I just couldn't argue anymore, so I gave in. If only, …"

"It's still early. She could be home any time. Just another thing, Mrs. Butler. We'll have to talk with your youngest daughter."

"Liz has just fallen asleep. She already talked with the other agents. Couldn't it wait?" Mrs. Butler's now pleading eyes were on him.

"It is really important. Agent Spade will be here in a little while; could you let her talk with Liz, please? "

Mrs. Butler nodded, leaving Jack alone in the room.  
Posters were all over the walls. On the girl's desk there was a laptop. Her bed was unmade and towels were stuffed under the covers in an effort to make it look as if she was in the bed. Stuffed animals were on the floor near the bed. Jack imagined a girl moving around the room. The room was typical of a teenager – not quite ready to stop being a child, but anxious to grow up… The stuffed animals reflected in the full-size dressing mirror, where Jack imagined her checking her clothes and applying make-up before going to school everyday. She grew up and her room changed, but there were reminders of her childhood. He was not thinking about the missing girl right then. He was thinking of Hanna. Hanna's room was different. There wasn't any signs of her childhood years there - no dolls, no fairy tales books. These things were in Chicago. It reminded him of how much of his daughters' lives he had missed.

"Jack, I'm here," Samantha appeared in the doorway and Jack's family digression came to an end. She noticed Jack's distrusted and doubtful expression. "Is everything okay?"

Jack rubbed his forehead and, ignoring her question, said, "You have to talk with the little sister. Her mother is a bit protective, but it's understandable."

Samantha realized he was in '_that place'_ that she couldn't reach. Things with his daughter probably didn't go very well, but it was time to let it go. Trying to make him talk would be a waste of time anyway, and time was precious – they had a teenager to find. "What about Christine? What do we know? Boyfriend? Drugs?" Samantha was looking around the room and stopped in front of a 'collage'. "She seems to be quite the popular girl. Did you find a diary?"

"Nothing yet, I just got here." Jack stood looking around the too familiar room.

"I'll get Tech to look at her laptop. These pictures on the wall are very good. It looks like she spent a lot of time on that laptop. We should look into any social networks she might be into." Sam could see she did not have Jack's full attention as she handed him sheets of paper from the bookcase. It was a paper the girl had written for her creative writing class. Jack took the sheets and looked at them. Christine's words blurred away, an when they cleared, Jack saw Hanna's story from years ago, when she wrote an essay about how she missed spending time with her father.

Jack's mind kept making parallels with Hanna. Sensing Sam's eyes on him, he gave her a glaring look and asked,"Still here? Why aren't you interviewing the child?"

"I'm going, I'm going… Are you sure you're okay? You seem a bit out of it." A look from Jack was enough to make Samantha stop.

#

Liz was waiting in her room. She seemed younger than her ten years. The little girl was sitting on her bed, hugging a teddy bear. Sam could see she was overwhelmed by the events of the night before, her eyes red and puffy. Her mother was beside her. Samantha watched the mother's reaction, not just for any look of surprise but also to have the mother's permission to continue.

"I just need to ask you a couple of questions. Is it okay?"

Liz nodded and adjusted herself in her mother's embrace.

"Why did your sister leave you alone?"

"I had lost Chrissy's backpack. So she had to go back to look for it, but I was tired and I didn't want to walk back up all those steps. There was a security guard and she asked him if I could stay there for a few minutes."

"So, she left you alone with him?"

Liz nodded again. Samantha took notes of it, and then gently nudged Liz to go on.

"There were some boys who were arguing and the guard had to go. I was tired. So I looked for some place where I could rest. And I saw a bench." The little girl lifted her head toward her mother, looking for her forgiveness. She knew she had done something wrong.

Samantha knew the difficulty in interviewing a child with a parent present. Parents were protective and children usually looked for their approval. But the law said the parent must be present, so Sam had to find a way to keep eye contact with the girl. She sat next to Liz and put a reassuring hand on the girl's knee.

"It's okay, Liz. How did you get to the concert? Did anyone give you a ride there?"

"No, we took the train and then the subway."

Samantha could read a glimpse of excitement in the little girl's eyes. She had to be thrilled about a night out in the city. But now, in the morning, Liz knew she was in trouble. She looked up at her mother. Samantha needed to lead Liz back to her happy night out. A worried child did not talk as freely as an excited one can. "Were you excited when your sister invited you to the concert?"

"Chrissy invited me? That would never happen! I overheard her on the phone with Mandy. They were arranging to meet there. I told her I would tell Mom, so she had no choice." A little smile appeared on Liz's face as she enjoyed her cleverness.

"Who is Mandy?" Samantha asked Mrs. Butler.

"Amanda Anderson, Chrissy's best friend. They have known each other since third grade. She is the one in the photo on the desk."

"Right." Samantha wrote down the name and then asked if Christine had a boyfriend.

Mrs. Butler was about to answer no when Liz, anxious to reveal a secret, said, "She likes Kevin."

Samantha's eyes were immediately on the little girl. "What do you know about him?"

"He helps Chrissy's volleyball coach. I know she likes him because I read her diary."

Sam was surprised, "We didn't find a diary."

Liz, suddenly feeling brave, left her mother's embrace and went to Christine's room. Samantha followed her. The girl stopped at the bookcase, took a flowered box from behind some books and, handing it to Samantha, she said excitedly, "All her secrets are here!" Then, with sadness, she asked, "You will find her, right?"

"I'll do my best, I promise."

#

Jack was talking to the father when Samantha approached him with a box in her hands. He looked at the box, then at Sam. He started to ask, but the _'I'll explain later'_ look on her face told him to wait. He turned his attention back to Mr. Butler. "So, you have no idea how she bought the tickets. Well, if you think of anything, give me a call." He handed Mr. Butler a business card and added, "I'm leaving an agent here in case you are contacted by anyone."

Samantha followed him outside and reported what Liz had told her. The day was hot, even though it was still early. Jack loosened his tie and approached his car, "Do you need a ride back to the office?"

"Jack, you know I came in my own car." She rolled her eyes. _Jack wasn't focused at all_. She threw a last look at him as she closed the trunk of her car. _That would be a hard day for Jack_.

"Right. Go to the office, look through the girl's things and let me know if you find something. I'll go talk with the coach's assistant and I'll call Martin to go to the Andersons. See you at the office."

###

_Madison Square Garden, NY _

In the meantime Martin and Danny were interviewing the security guards who were at the concert the night before. They confirmed what Liz had told Samantha.

"This guy feels guilty about leaving her alone," said Martin.

Danny agreed. "When he went back to where Liz was and she was gone, he thought the sister had come for her."

Martin nodded his head at Danny's words. He could understand the man's feelings very well. His mind flashed back to the day when a boy was kidnapped right under his nose and he did not understand what had happened until it was too late.

"Agent Taylor!" a policeman was calling Danny, "we found something." As Danny turned to follow the officer, Martin's phone rang.

"Look what they found." Some minutes later Danny approached Martin shaking a plastic bag used for evidence. "It's Christine's backpack. Her wallet, keys and cell phone are inside. And I took the security tapes to check. Any news from Jack?"

"A couple of names to check, but nothing more so far. It seems she has a crush on some older boy. I'll have to go and interview the girl's best friend, let me see… Amanda Anderson," and then, closing his notes, he added, "I'll drop you back at the office?"

"Yeah, several hours of security tape are waiting for me. Do you want to swap?" Danny answered, grinning.

"No, thanks." They both walked back to the car as Martin grumbled under his breath, "But nice try, Bro'!"


	13. Ep Three: Skins, part 2

SKINS: Chapter Two

_Kevin Peterson's apartment, NY  
10 hours missing_

It was almost 9 AM when Special Agent Jack Malone knocked on Kevin Peterson's door. A nice looking young girl opened the door, surprised to see someone there at nine in the morning. Jack hadn't expected to see a female opening the door. Her dark hair was pulled back, she was wearing just a long T-shirt and had a coffee mug in her hands. He presented his credentials and asked for Peterson.

As she invited Jack inside and closed the door behind him, she called out, "Kevin! The 'Feds' are here. They want to talk to you." Then she offered Jack a cup of coffee. "I'm Sarah. I guess you could say I'm Kevin's girlfriend." She grinned. Then she moved toward the counter. "I was making breakfast." She smiled and went back to her task. She didn't seem upset having an FBI agent in her kitchen or bothered by the fact that she was wearing only a T-shirt.

Jack sipped his coffee, realizing he needed it. It had been hours since he woke up and the only coffee he drank was the one just outside his apartment. Jack observed the young woman making pancakes. His mind flashed back to a Saturday morning of several years before, when he watched as a blond young woman was busy in her kitchen making him breakfast. She was wearing his shirt with the sleeves rolled up and she was trying hard, but it was obvious making breakfast was not something usual for her – the counter was a mess. A smile appeared on his lips. Bringing himself back to the present, Jack was not sure if Sarah lived there, but, sure enough, she was at ease in that kitchen. He was going to ask her some questions when he heard footsteps approaching. A young man in his late twenties was hurriedly drying his hair with a towel while entering the kitchen. He wore a pair of jeans and a violet T-shirt with a big yellow caption – 'NY University'. He was barefoot and had obviously just come out of the shower.

"I'm sorry, if I made you wait. But I was showering. Has something happened? Why is the FBI looking for me?"

"I'm Special Agent Jack Malone. I understand you know Christine Butler. I am investigating her disappearance last night." Jack placed the mug on the counter and took his notepad from his pocket.

"Oh, God! Disappeared? Where? What happened?" The young man seemed genuinely worried.

"We're still investigating. She went to a concert at Madison Square Garden. But after that we lost her. Are you close with her?"

"She is on the volleyball team. I am a coach's assistant. You know, sometimes the girls come to me to talk… but that's all. I don't know her well. She is just one of the girls, nice, but nothing special. A good athlete." He was speaking in clipped sentences. He was just saying the essential and was careful in his choice of words. Jack felt there was something more Kevin Peterson was not saying.

"Do you know if she has a boyfriend?"

"No idea. But she is pretty - you know how kids are today." A grin escaped him.

Jack closed his notepad and took off his glasses. "Interesting." Jack stared at him for a moment wanting to see his reaction to his next question. "How did you feel about the fact that she had a crush on you?"

The young man stopped for a moment, realizing what Jack was saying. "What are you insinuating?" He was angry, offended maybe. He looked over at Sarah, who had appeared in the doorway. _Sure thing he was hesitating_.

"This is my card. If you can think about something, anything more, give me a call." Jack knew that it would not be the last interview with Kevin Peterson.

**###**

_FBI Headquarters, NY_

At the office Danny was looking through the tapes at his desk. It had been more than an hour and he had found nothing so far. Looking for Christine and Liz among hundreds and hundreds of teenagers had made Danny's eyes hurt.

Samantha entered the bullpen with Christine's flowered box in her hands. At the top of the box there was a tray with two coffees. She placed the box on the conference table, took off her jacket and took the tray. "Hey, Danny! I thought you could use a coffee. How are you doing? Found anything?"

Danny rolled his chair around and reached the small table. Danny took a sip of his coffee and, with an exaggerated gesture, exclaimed, "You don't know how much I need this! I've looked at so many black and white tapes that I think I've become color blind!"

Samantha hung her jacket on her chair and joined Danny at the table. Taking her coffee, she mocked her co-worker, "The Danny I knew would love looking at hours of tapes of young girls. What has marriage done to you?"

"Ha, ha. Really funny." Danny displayed a fake hurt expression.

Samantha grinned. She grabbed her cup and turned toward the conference table, "Game over. Let's find this girl. I'll look through her things here and then I'll help you with the footage."

"Okay. I'll let you know if I find something."

Samantha started to examine the content of Christine's box: a diary, a sketch pad, several tickets, a bracelet, some cards and a big envelope. She didn't know where she should start – _The diary? The sketch pad? The envelope? _She started to skim the sketch pad, but there was nothing that caught her attention. Then she took the envelope. There were photos inside. She scanned the photos, but again nothing seemed relevant apart from the fact that Christine was in all of them. Obviously someone else had taken the photos. In most of them she was with her best friend, Amanda. _Maybe Amanda's boyfriend could be the photographer? _Samantha was just guessing. She took notes of her impressions and then passed to the diary.

She was going to start reading it when Danny called out, "Sam! Maybe I've found something. Take a look here, is it her? What do you think?"

Samantha immediately went to Danny's desk.

"Go back… stop here. Can you zoom in?" Samantha took Christine's photo from the table and put it next to the computer screen, "Yes, it's her! What time was it?"

"It was 11:20 PM. See that man talking to her?" Danny asked as he went back to the point when the man appeared in the video.

Samantha nodded. _Did Christine know him? Why did she go with him? She could scream or fight, instead she just followed him._

"He approaches her when she is alone, they talk, she wants to go away, he grabs her arm. She seems scared here. Why doesn't she run away?" Danny turned toward Samantha. She was intently looking at the screen. She was pensive and was considering Danny's question.

"Maybe she knows him. Or he just knows what to say to make her stay calm. I have no idea." Samantha was guessing. She didn't like at all what the security camera had recorded. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Look at her - she looks around, she seems confused. But then she follows him," Danny said.

"She is not resisting him, but I'd say she is not happy either. Can you make a photo still of the man? Martin is with her friend Amanda, maybe she will recognize him."

"I'll try, but he's wearing a basketball cap and he is dressed in black. I don't know if Amanda would see enough of his face to recognize him. I doubt it."

"Me too. But we have to try. I'll look into Christine's diary, maybe she wrote something about a mysterious man or a stalker."

**###**

_Andersons' house, NY _

Amanda was sitting on the couch near her father. Mr. Anderson reassured his daughter, placing his hand on her knee every now and then, when Amanda hesitated. Martin was on the armchair just in front of them taking notes. The agent was sure Mr. Anderson cared about his daughter and was worried. Christine and Amanda had been friends for many years. They shared a lot. If something happened to Christine, Amanda would be seriously affected.

Martin approached the girl with gentleness, starting with standard questions. He asked Amanda if she knew if something was bothering her friend. At her age best friends are your whole world. They are the only ones you confide in.

"Do you share some 'secrets' that you think could be useful to understand what happened?"

"I don't know. It's just normal stuff. It seems so unbelievable. I keep thinking Christine will phone me anytime." Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back.

Seeing his daughter's distress, Amanda's father helped Martin clarify the events of the night before. Amanda did not lie to her parents. Her father had escorted her to the concert and had gone to pick her up. He would surely have taken Christine if only he had known she was there. Amanda's parents had not been happy she would be going alone to the concert, but she had assured them some friends would be there. Amanda bought her ticket, working hard several weekends babysitting and helping their neighbors. It would not be fair to keep her from going just because Christine's parents did not agree.

"Chrissy phoned me just before the concert. She would sneak out because her parents were going out. Then I think her sis overheard. I heard them arguing and next thing Chrissy said was _'We'll meet there, I need a ticket for Liz'_."

"How do you think she found another ticket? I imagine the concert has been sold out for a long time. I am assuming she already had hers, am I right?" Martin was looking for a confirmation to his assumption. Finding another ticket a few hours before the concert had surely been hard.

Amanda nodded. "We bought the tickets together. We were so excited!" The girl smiled at the thought, but immediately went back to reality. "As for the ticket for Liz, I have no idea."

"Right. Do you know if Christine had an after school job or if she babysits to earn money?"

Amanda hesitated and, finally, answered, "Sometimes."

Martin became suspicious. "_Sometimes_ what? Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Her parents would not agree, so she lied to them. I think she babysat."

_She 'thinks'? Don't best friends share everything?_ "Do you know where?" Martin asked the girl, giving her the benefit of the doubt for the moment.

"No, I don't." Amanda was looking for an answer. Her eyes were shifting; she was looking everywhere but at Martin. "Maybe the names are in her diary."

"Right, we'll check. Did she talk to you about a boyfriend?"

"No, she doesn't have a boyfriend."

Martin looked up at the girl. He thought her answers were too quick, and he could see she was uncomfortable. _Was it because her best friend disappeared and an FBI Agent was interviewing her, or because she __was lying?_ Martin couldn't put his finger on it yet. As he was wondering, he received a phone call from the office about the man talking with Christine in the video. They sent him a photo of a man, but the photo was not clear. He showed it to Amanda. "Do you know him? This photo was taken at the concert."

"No, I don't know who he is."

"Okay. Do you know Kevin Peterson?" Martin asked.

She nodded. "Kevin assists our volleyball coach, Mrs. Willis."

"Do you know Christine has a crush on him?"

Amanda looked surprised. "Yes, I do."

"And? Haven't you anything to add? Didn't she tell you anything?"

"No, she didn't."

"Amanda, please, anything you know could be vital. We have to find Chrissy and you are the only one who can help us. Did Christine ever go out with Kevin on a date?" Martin was sureshe knew more than she was saying. _How could he make her confide in him? Her yes/no answers were of no help. Did she know something really useful, or she was only covering for nothing more than a teenage crush for an older guy? _

"They went out together once or twice. But nothing more happened, as far as I know. They went to watch a movie and he took her to a concert, I think."

Amanda was on edge again. She looked at her father more than once during the last questions. She was worried. Her eyes were pleading for Martin to stop the questions.

_What was she hiding? _Martin was going to try pushing a little bit more when Mr. Anderson stopped him.

"Agent Fitzgerald, I understand your motives, but my daughter is shattered. She told you everything she knows. Can't it be enough? If something else comes to her, I'll phone you."

Martin realized he had nothing to validate his suspicions. He had to verify what Amanda told him and see what everyone discovered. "Sure. This is my card. Let me know if Amanda remembers anything. And, Amanda? Remember, Chrissy needs you."

###

_FBI Headquarters, NY  
12 hours missing  
_

Jack went back to the office and joined his coworkers at the conference table. Christine's things were spread on the table.

"Any news?"

Samantha was looking through cards and tickets. "If these things are really hers, it seems she used to go to concerts. But the parents didn't mention that, right?" She looked up at Jack. "And this '_K.' _as a signon these cards can be Peterson. I'm crossing the dates with her diary to see if I find something."

An agent approached Jack, "Agent Malone, there is an envelope for you."

Jack took the envelope and quickly looked at the sender. _NYPD, 43__rd__ Precinct_ was written in capital letters. It was the report on the Bernsen's case. He turned his attention back to his team.

"Okay, so let's review what we know. The clock is ticking. I want to go through everything again. Collect everything we know. As soon as Martin is back, call me." Then looking around, Jack asked, "Where is our whiteboard? This high tech transparent glass is crap! Danny! Find the damn whiteboard!"

Samantha watched Jack turning and heading toward his office, the mysterious envelope tucked under his arm.


	14. Ep Three: Skins, part 3

SKINS: Chapter Three

_FBI Headquarters, NY_

The moment Martin entered the office, Samantha sprinted toward Jack's office. Now that every agent was in the office, they could make one of those briefings Jack so loved in the early years. She was going to open the door when she stopped and looked through the glass instead. Jack had opened the envelope he had received just minutes before, and he was skimming what seemed like a police report. Samantha did not remember any still open case that needed assistance from the 43rd precinct. That would be South Bronx, and it was years since they had been called down there for an investigation. She put aside her curiosity for the moment because Christine needed all her attention. She called Jack and together they went back to the bullpen.

Martin was updating the whiteboard, adding what Amanda had told him. "Danny, you know, this girl knows more than she's saying. She believes she's protecting her friend. Teenagers live in a world of their own. They are so naïve and think they are invincible. Things were different when we were teenagers. There weren't so many pressures from the outside and there weren't credit cards and cell phones for you to get into trouble!"

"Don't tell me you never sneaked out when you were a teenager and got into trouble… You never tried to put something past your parents?"

"My parents weren't around that much. I didn't have to. But, when I did, I didn't get into this kind of trouble."

Danny smirked, "Right, I forgot you were _'the golden boy'_."

Before Martin could reply, Jack and Samantha joined them. "Okay, then. Let's begin. Danny?" Jack nodded at him and then looked at the whiteboard to have a complete view of what they knew.

"Christine Butler, 15 years old, disappeared after the concert at Madison Square Garden. Last seen at 11:20 PM, captured by the security cameras in the corridor right outside the VIP area. She followed a man. I checked the footage of every exit after 11:20 PM and I did not find any signs of her or the man. NYPD checked everywhere - she isn't there anymore. She probably was taken out inside a car or a van from one of the service exits. Techs are looking for a match. They are comparing the drivers with the man's footage. It's a long shot, but we could be lucky. There is also something like a logo or maybe an insignia on his jacket; it's not clear, but maybe they can come out with something useful."

"Okay. Martin." Jack was pacing the briefing. They were running out of time and there were no leads.

"Amanda Anderson confirmed what we already knew," he said as he pointed to a few lines on the whiteboard. "Christine called Amanda and Liz overheard, so the girl needed another ticket. We have no idea how Christine got her hands on another ticket. She would need a seat nearby for Liz. The concert was certainly sold out by then."

"Not necessarily. She needed a ticket to let Liz enter. I doubt they stayed calm in their seats. It was not a game, it was a concert. Everyone usually sings and dances around at those events," Danny pointed out.

"Anyway, Techs are working on her laptop and phone. The girls were going to meet at the concert. They had bought the tickets together. We don't know how Christine found the money for the tickets. Maybe babysitting. No boyfriend, but Amanda told me Christine went out with Peterson a couple of times. I'm quite sure Amanda knows more, but her father did not let me ask more," Martin said.

"Sam?" Jack's voice directed all their attention to the blond agent.

"The phone logs confirm what they told us. We are still waiting for the results from her cell phone. There are a couple of calls to an unidentified number; techs are on it. From what I read in her diary, she likes Kevin Peterson. She has a crush on him. And from what I can understand, he gave her reason to believe it's mutual. He is playing big time with this girl. Small notes with _'meet me at the gym'_, _'see you after school'_, _'I like your new pants'_, and so on, filled her diary, probably as a sweet reminder of their rendezvous. Take a look here." Samantha spread all the small notes on the table. Then, looking at Jack, added, "Jack, you talked with Peterson, so what do you think? There are also a lot of used tickets for previous concerts – at least 10. Her parents told nothing about it, right?"

"They seem more interested in bitching at each other than following their daughter's life." Jack shook his head. "They are driving me up the wall. All of them! I want everyone involved here! Damn, we are losing this girl!"

The phone at Sam's desk rang. She left her place at the conference table, while Jack headed toward his office.

Martin and Danny were looking through the concert tickets. "Those tickets were something every teenager would have killed for," Danny gave voice to his thoughts.

"Yeah. How could Christine go to all those concerts? How did she find the money? Every ticket was at least $100/120," Martin added as he passed his hand through the tickets scattered on the table.

Samantha interrupted their exchange, "Techs found the person to whom Christine sent the messages. Any guesses?" Samantha's smug look was challenging her co-workers, "Peterson."

"So, he was the one who gave her the tickets." Martin's hand was running through the tickets. "Why? What did she do in exchange?" He lifted his head only to read the same worried look reflected in his co-workers' eyes.

#

_14 hours missing _

Danny approached the table where Samantha and Martin were checking the dates on the tickets against Christine's diary. He opened the folder in his hands to show his colleagues a clear photo of a yellow mark. "Techs found a match for the logo on the mystery man's jacket. It is the insignia of Seven Lakes Fishing Club. They will send in the list of associates, but I don't think it will help us. They are more than 5000! And 80% of them are men." Then, turning his head toward Jack's office, he added, "Where is Jack? I have been told our 'guests' are here."

"He is with the Butlers," Martin clarified, "he wanted to show them the tickets and see if they remember something."

Jack walked down the corridor to the bullpen. Christine's parents had no idea what their daughter had been up to. _What secrets was Hanna keeping from him?_ He suppressed the thought and turned his attention to his team.

"Jack," Danny turned around as Jack entered, "Peterson and Amanda Anderson are here."

"Yes, I know. And Peterson is '_lawyered up'_. The parents seem to live in another world. Martin, Samantha, I want you two on the girl. She has to know something about the tickets. Danny, you come with me. Take the diary and some of the cards. Peterson is in 'Interview 2'."

#

Martin took a seat at the long table in the visitors' room. Sam introduced herself and sat beside him, careful to not directly face the girl. She noticed how Amanda's eyes had never left the yellow folder since Martin positioned it in front of him on the table.

"Amanda, did you remember anything else which could help us find Christine?"

She shook her head. "Nothing else. Why am I here? Why haven't you found Chrissy, yet?"

Martin ignored her words, and addressed his next question with a gentle but firm voice, "Do you and Christine often go to concerts?"

"No, we don't. Why do you ask?"

"So, I guess you do not know anything about these tickets?" Martin stared at the girl as he shoved the open folder with all the tickets at her.

Samantha let Martin lead the interview. She watched as Amanda reacted to Martin's questions. At first, the girl did not flinch when they showed her the tickets. But the more Martin pushed, the more the girl became uncomfortable. Samantha shifted her attention to Mr. Anderson. She could read hesitation on him. _Was my daughter lying? - Samantha_ could easily guess his train of thoughts. _How many lies are you telling us, Amanda, if your own father is doubtful? _The girls had built up a 'house of cards' and now it was falling down miserably. But she was still not ready to spill the truth. Maybe she feared her father's reaction. It was time to stop playing.

"Amanda, do you really think you can fool us? You would have to babysit full time to buy all these tickets and I bet Christine's expensive clothes don't come from her parents. And yours?" Sam looked briefly at Mr. Anderson to read on him if she guessed right. Then she turned again to the girl, "Would you like to help us? Don't you fear she could be in trouble? What did she do in exchange for _'these gifts'_?"

Realization was on Mr. Anderson's face. "Amanda, stop playing, Chrissy is in danger. Tell them what you know! Now!" His voice was firm; he was not open to discussion.

"Kevin gave us tickets for live events and he had an account at a clothing store in Manhattan. We could go there and get clothes."

"Amanda, why did he give you those things? Did he ask you to do something for him?" Martin asked.

"He just...," she hesitated, "… he just made some videos during our training. It was funny! He put them on the 'net. He told us people are willing to pay to see girls play in small outfits."

"Do you know where he uploaded those videos?" Martin was trying to keep the worry from his voice. He realized things were moving into dangerous territory.

"I'm not sure. I think a couple different video sites, but I never really searched them."

"Okay. Stay here while we check what it is. Can we get you anything, Mr. Anderson?" Martin offered as he and Samantha were heading out.

"I just want to know what this is all about!" Mr. Anderson exclaimed turning to look at his daughter, who was uncomfortably biting her lower lip.

"We'll let you know as soon as we see it. Please excuse us."

"I'll fill Danny and Jack in. You get started with Tech. We need to know what this is about," Samantha said as soon as they got out of the visitors' room.

Martin nodded, "I'm getting more and more worried."

Sam nodded in agreement and left.

#

As soon as Jack entered the room, Peterson's lawyer made clear his client was not going to answer their questions. He had already said what he knew.

_He told us what he knew? _Jack held back his rage just because he was aware that they needed Peterson to find the girl. In the meantime Danny took a seat and started playing with the cards they found in Christine's diary. Peterson did not even pretend not to notice.

"Mr. Peterson, so you have nothing to add…" Jack took off his glasses and put them down on the table. Then turning toward Danny, "Maybe we should refresh your memory. Agent Taylor, would you explain to our 'guests' what we did find among Christine Butler's things?"

Danny laid down the cards on the table and then opened the diary at the first bookmarked page.

"Does it ring any bells?"

"He won't answer that," Peterson's lawyer intervened.

"Your client believes we are stupid. He is involved with this girl. Teenagers in love leave a trail that is so easy to follow!Her secret diary is full of notes about you. Stop wasting my time and start talking."

The discreet ring of the intercom interrupted them. Jack silently cursed the thing and answered. Sam informed him of what Amanda had told them. Jack hung on the phone and spoke directly to Peterson, suppressing his desire to smash the man against the wall.

"Mr. Peterson, I understand you provided us with evidence by uploading some videos of young girls. Since you went to so much trouble, we want to be sure to watch them." Jack pushed a pad and a pencil in front of the shocked Peterson and added, "Take good notes or I'll just make good assumptions based on what I see in the videos."

#

_15 hours missing_

Apart from the fact that it displayed minors, the video itself was not a big deal really – just a bunch of girls training. Maybe some shots could be debatable, but nothing was illegal. The context in which it was presented was entirely another matter. Starting from the title – "_Who do you pick up?_" – there was enough to suspect something illegal was going on there. The streaming channel hosting the video had many other teenage girls' short videos. The girls seemed more than aware of what they were doing.

"Do you think they know what they are doing?" Martin was worried and disgusted at the same time. _What would make those girls grow up so fast? Too fast? _He couldn't believe how they exposed themselves on the videos. "These girls think this is just innocent fun. They don't have a clue what is going to happen when people see this."

"I'll never leave Sophie out of my sight 'til college."

"Wise decision." Martin put a hand on Danny's shoulder as he went to his desk.

"And have you read the comments below? There are some creepy ones! Sam? Haven't you anything to say? Aren't you the one who had a thing with men?" Danny turned to look at their strangely silent colleague.

"I just softened my perspective after giving birth to a boy…" Samantha wasn't really paying attention to what her colleagues were saying; her eyes were fixed on her monitor. She selected some pages, then went to the printer and anxiously waited for the sheets to come out. She was silent, the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach growing more and more. _She knew what happened when you made bad decisions when you were young.__**  
**_"Guys, take a look at these messages." Samantha handed out the printed sheets to Martin and Danny. "Tell me if something sounds out of place. They are messages from different videos, but I think they follow the same scheme. I'm just guessing, but there can be a code or something."

Martin frowned reading the messages. "You're right. I'll ask Mac or Lucy to help me check these out. We'll need a warrant to track the IP. Providers are not always happy to help."

"Consider it done." Sam grabbed her phone and dialed the well-known number.

#

Jack, Danny and Samantha were talking at the conference table when Martin entered the bullpen with a folder in his hands**. **

"Guys, you have to look at this. Pull up this website." Martin handed the open folder to Danny.

"What is it?" Danny asked when a black webpage appeared on the screen.

"Scroll the page down, there is a white icon. Click it and enter the first password written on the sheet I gave you," Martin ordered.

A photo gallery appeared, but when Danny clicked on the photos, a request to insert another password appeared. "And now? The pictures are so small that even if I enlarge the page I can't understand what they are."

"Techs generated a general key-password. It's the one written in bold. On the website there are photos and videos of teenage girls. It's pornography. Plain and simple. The girls are underage, but there are no children. Christine is the fifth on the third line. Amanda is just below her. The videos we saw before were only glimpses of longer and 'dirtier' versions. "

"So, let me understand – they made their own site with a password to get in and then 'passworded' galleries to see what is _'on sale'. _What do they use to communicate? Emails?" Samantha asked.

"Above all instant messages, after the first contact. They bring in traffic from YouTube. The messages we noticed under the videos are the way to obtain the password needed. They probably met on some pervs' chat rooms where the website's administrator made known the scheme for the messages," Martin explained.

"Is there an '_exchange_'?" Jack asked. He was trying to understand what could have happened to Christine.

"I don't think so. The website has only traffic in download. Money seems the best bet. Techs are still working on it. We have to extend the warrant – we need to check the financial movements of these 'gentlemen'," Martin said.

"So, you choose the photos or videos you like and then either pay for them, or they made you pay beforehand to belong to the 'club'. There has to be some way to track the movements of money," Danny said.

"Techs will work on it," Jack said without showing any emotion. Then, looking at Martin and Samantha, he told them, "Interview the girl again. Find out who took the photos. And Sam? Use your '_magic_' if necessary; the girl has to talk."

#

Martin showed the photos to Amanda. Mr. Anderson was stunned. He was without words. His little girl has posed naked for concerts? It was absurd. "They can't be real, right, Amanda? These photos are fakes. You did not do those photos!"

Amanda's head was bent; she was looking at her hands.

Mr. Anderson grabbed his daughter's face between his hands. "Look at me! This is not you!"

"I'm sorry Dad." Amanda's embarrassed eyes looked at her father and, reading his anger mixed with delusion, she realized what she had done and how she hurt her father. She thought she had done nothing wrong… _everyone was doing it, so what was the harm_? _It was wrong _instead,but now it was too late.

"No! It can't be true! Who did this to you?" The man stood up with a growl. He was angry and desperate. His daughter – his little girl – was posing naked… for fun? He punched the wall, hard. "I have to go out for a moment. I need to…"

Samantha and Martin exchanged looks. They had to take advantage of the situation.

"Please, Mr. Anderson, come with me." Martin led the man to the corridor. "Do you want a coffee?"

"No, it's just that… where did we go wrong?" Mr. Anderson looked at Martin, like he had all the answers. "My wife is often abroad for work, I'm trying to do my best. I thought everything was fine… Who did this to Mandy? She's only a child!"

"She's more than that. Look at her, Mr. Anderson. She's a young woman. She has been lucky nothing happened to her. They were playing a game bigger than them."

Amanda's father looked through the glass. His fifteen-year-old daughter sitting alone in front of an FBI agent, explaining why she posed naked. She was not ashamed. It seemed as though she was discussing her history essay at school. Where was his little girl? "You're right. She's not a child anymore."

Sam and Amanda were alone now. "Would you like to tell me what happened? Who took the photos?" Samantha's voice was neutral.

"They are just photos. Why should they be a big deal? Chrissy wanted to date Kevin. She loved him…" Amanda minimized what happened. Without her father there she did not have to read on him the consequences of her mistake. _Was she looking for "absolution"?_

"Kevin Peterson?" Sam asked just to be sure.

"Yeah, who else?" Amanda rolled her eyes.

Samantha let it go, but the girl's attitude was getting on her nerves. _Didn't this girl realize that her friend could be in danger? She was just lucky not to be in Christine's place!_ Samantha sighed. Probably Amanda was scared and was only acting up. "So, Chrissy had a crush on Kevin. Then, what happened?"

"He suggested that we could do some photos for fun…

… "_Mandy, Kevin asked me to pose for some photos. And he told me to bring someone else. You are my best friend, you MUST come with me!"_

"_I don't know. Why does he want to take pictures of us? And, more important, why would you like to do it?" I was fooling her. I wanted to hear her saying she loved him._

"_Mandy… please… You know I love him! If we agree, I'm sure he will ask me out again!"_

"_Okay, okay! What I have to do for your love life!" I rolled my eyes. _

_Chrissy's eyes lit up, the excitement coursing through her body at the thought of a date with Kevin. "It will be fun. I promise!" The smile spread across her face as she pulled me in for a hug._

"_Yeah, it will!" I agreed sharing her enthusiasm …_

"At first they were just photos of us together, maybe some of them sexier than others, but nothing more than that. It was funny! We felt like those top models on magazines! Then, during a photo session, Kevin told us to strip in our underwear, that it could be sexier. He would give us tickets for live events, expensive clothes and, maybe, even money. We went beyond that. We were free to do what we wanted! He just told us to have fun."

"And you _did it_. Right." Samantha was hiding her internal turmoil as best as she could, but that did not sound good at all. '_Peer pressure'? Maybe. Or just naïveté? That was a 'game for adults' and they were only kids and were not ready to play. They did not know all the rules. They were just happy to have expensive clothes and tickets for concerts; they were not interested to know where their photos would go or who could see them. _Samantha took one of Christine's pictures and looked at the girl's face. She sighed. _Was Peterson alone? Or was there someone else who sold the pictures? How did he find the ticket for Liz? There had to be someone else. And 'nobody does anything for nothing'. Did Peterson know anything about the kidnapping? He had a lot to explain. Jack would have a 'round of cards' with him. _Samantha gathered the photos, took her notepad and turned to leave.

"Agent Spade?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you find Christine?"

"I don't know. We wasted a lot of time." Samantha pushed the door open and left.


	15. Ep Three: Skins, part 4

A/N: this is the last chapter of this episode. I think I'll finish the next interlude before Christmas, but the next episode won't be on-line before the new year. Huge thanks to my awesome beta Diane and a big hug to Sharon. Thanks girls! :)

* * *

SKINS: Chapter Four

_FBI Headquarters, NY  
17 Hours Missing _

As soon as Samantha filled him in on what Amanda had revealed, Jack grabbed the folder with the photos out of Sam's hands and stormed out of his office. He passed Danny in the corridor and commanded, "Danny! Come with me!"

Seeing the anger in Jack's face, Danny decided to put off his trip to the tech's office and follow Jack. They didn't talk as they walked down the corridor toward the interview rooms. Danny could feel Jack's rage simmering. And he understood him perfectly. But sadly, punching Peterson probably was not the right approach. Danny stopped Jack in front of the glass to the interview room. "Jack! Stop! Take a breath! Look at him. He is confident and his lawyer is here. It might be better to take a calmer approach."

Jack sighed and said, "Yeah, probably," and opened the door.

Jack sat down and arranged his suit for more comfort. He made sure every action was slow and deliberate. Peterson had to feel uncomfortable. Jack put on his glasses and started, "I see the pad is still empty. Did you get amnesia? I have something that might jar your memory." Jack opened the folder and laid out four photos on the table. His eyes were now boring a hole in Peterson's head.

Looking down at the photos, Kevin Peterson felt his confidence fading. His lawyer had told him to stay silent and admit nothing. Was it of any help? Kevin had been silent but he knew now that _the FBI k__n__ew everything_.

"Don't waste my time. I know you took the pictures. I want to know where Christine Butler is," Jack said.

"I don't know."

"You wanted more and she said _'no'_? Or were '_pizza and movie_' not enough for her anymore? She wanted to stop and you saw your '_meal ticket'_ ending? What was it?"

"No, no. Stop! I did nothing to her. I like this girl. I just took the photos! And I never forced them to pose! I swear!" Peterson spoke out.

"And Christine? Was her crush on you part of the plan?" Jack asked.

"It just happened. It made things easier at the beginning. But then they acted in their own behalf. They were having fun. I didn't force them into anything. Really!"

"_Really? _I'm sure they were going around looking for someone who could take photos of them naked." Jack did not hide his disgust. "You're just lucky these pictures aren't of my daughters! You are a sick bastard!"

Peterson's lawyer defended his client. "Agent Malone, your language is not necessary! My client is here to help and does not have to take this abuse from you!"

"I have a girlfriend, so I don't need to look around for '_more fun'_. If it is what you are implying." Peterson was brave again.

"I'm sure your girlfriend would be happy with you screwing some teenage girl for money." _Peterson was a piece of work._ Jack wondered if the young man realized how deep in trouble he was. "So, I'm guessing you don't take those pictures for your private collection?"

Peterson looked at his nodding lawyer and finally started shedding light on the mystery. "Yes, I took the pictures. I sold them in exchange for concert tickets, electronics, and clothes. You know, things the kids loved to have. I don't know what he did with the pictures."

"No money. '_Right_'. Never mind. Who is '_he_'?" _At last something useful! _Jack could feel it was the right lead.

"I know him as '_the Wizard_'. I think his name is John. He works at Madison Square Garden. He is a light technician. You shouldn't have much trouble finding out who he is."

Danny, who had been silent until then, took another photo from the folder and showed it to Peterson. It was the photo print of the man who Christine was talking to at the concert. "Do you recognize him?"

"It could be him, but I'm not sure. The photo is too dark."

Danny continued, "Okay. What about the phone call you received from the girl before the concert started?"

"I was surprised when she called. I didn't know she had my phone number. I don't know how she got it. She needed another ticket for the Jonas Brothers' concert. Her sister wanted to go with her…

…_."I can't, it's too late! The concert starts in two hours, I can't find another ticket!" _

"_Please, Kevin… I'll do whatever you want! Pleaaase… You know how much I love them! I need a ticket for the brat or she'll call Mom."_

_Realizing what could happen if her mother knew, I had to find another ticket, "I'll see what I can do. We'll meet there."_

"_I love you!"…._

Danny got right in Peterson's face and asked, "How did you get the ticket? Legally I'm sure!"

"I didn't. I gave her a pass. There were no tickets left. The concert was sold out. I thought her sister was only a child, so they could share a seat. '_The Wizard'_ was angry, it was late. He told me, _'You owe me big time! I could have made a lot of money off that pass!'_"

"I suppose he put a big price on the pass," Danny said. "What was it?"

"No, he didn't. I thought he wanted more photos, maybe a video…" Peterson was talking as if he had taken photos of landscapes.

Jack's disgust was displayed loudly in the form of a very audible sigh.

"_Right_, 'normal things', just teen pornography. You realized they were minors, right?" Danny said, looking directly at Peterson. The agent's disgust and anger were clearly painted on his face. Then pushing the pad toward him, he added, "Write down everything you can remember of this man and how we can find him – address, phone numbers, email addresses, websites, social network profiles, people he knew… Anything you can think of."

#

Jack and Danny joined Samantha in the bullpen and filled her in. Then Jack said, "Samantha, find '_Wizard_'! Now! Danny, see if Tech found anything in his phone and computer. I'll get the warrant for his apartment. Where the hell is Martin?"

"There is a witness to the scene the cameras captured," Samantha explained. "Martin is interviewing him. He saw Christine's photo on the news and his mother brought him here. He was at the concert and was waiting for his young girlfriend, who had gone to the bathroom."

"Okay. Let me know as soon as we have a name."

Jack headed toward his office. Exhausted, he sat at his desk. This case was hitting him hard. He was aging. He had never been the best at staying detached, but now it was harder and harder. His eyes moved around the room until they fell on the picture of Hanna on his desk. _Could he understand if anything similar was happening to her?_ He ran one hand through his hair, his frustration only growing. He looked at his wristwatch. It was 4:30 PM. He could wait no longer; he needed to call his daughter.

At the fourth ring, Hanna finally answered,_ "Hello? Dad?"_

He wanted to tell her he was sorry they were at odds, but words could not come out. "Are you still out?"

"_I'm with Ashley. Are you still being controlling?"_

He sighed. "Just be careful. I'll call you later at home. Bye."

"_Um."_ Jack could imagine his daughter rolling her eyes. _"Okay."_

He hung up and rolled his own eyes – _they were so alike!_ He grabbed the folder with the report that 43rd Precinct had sent him. He needed a diversion. He quickly skimmed the report until the point he had read before. It seemed NYPD closed the case quickly. _Too quickly_. Why had Alice Bernsen looked for him? What did she have to tell him? Maybe if he answered the phone that night, she would still be alive. Another _'Delia Rivers'_ who would haunt his dreams. _But not now._ Jack closed the folder. His mind would not let go of the Butler case. He had to find that girl before thinking about anything else.

#

Martin was talking to the witness, Robert Dillon, a thirteen-year-old boy, who had seen the exchange between Christine and the man at the was walking between the rows when he saw what he had thought was a couple arguing. The argument was loud and he could not help overhearing…

_..."I was looking for you. Are you here to give me what you owe me?"_

"_I don't know what you are talking about. Who are you?"_

"_I'm the one who pays for your tickets, girl. And you have to give me something more for the pass you got today."_

"_Do you want money?" She was co__nfused, "Where__ is Kevin? We had an agreement." The girl was scared. Who was this guy? _

"_Come with me. Let's go to 'Kevin'. We have to clear this up."_

_He grabbed her arm and drew the girl against him. He whispered something into her ear. His voice was ice cold and his eyes were hard._

_He let her go; she smiled shyly and followed him without resistance…._

"She seemed fine and went with him. I thought they had settled their argument," the boy said.

"Do you think you could work with an artist to give us a drawing of what he looked like?" Martin asked.

"I think so," the boy replied.

"Thank you, Robert. An agent will be here soon with the sketch artist. Mrs. Dillon, thank you for bringing your son in. Can I get you some coffee while you wait?"

#

Samantha was at her desk studying the sketch provided by the witness with pictures of all the workers at Madison Square Garden.

"I found him! Jonathan Webster, forty-three years old, light technician, he has been working at MSG since 2000. Divorced. No children. He moved here from Iowa after his divorce in 1999. He lives in Queens. Let me check his driver's license."

Martin and Danny interrupted their searches and turned toward their colleague with anticipation. Finally something was moving forward- they had got a name. Their instinct, after many years of experience, told them they were going in the right direction.

"Okay, he owns a white Ford van. I'll check the surveillance tapes again." Sam printed a copy of Webster's driver's license and hurried toward Jack's office.

"Jack. We have a name." Samantha handed the printed sheet to Jack. "And we've identified his van."

Jack lifted his eyes and, hearing the excitement and determination in Sam's voice, felt a rush of adrenaline spreading up his spine. He jumped to his feet, "It's about time! Do a background check on him. I want to know everything! Even how many times he was punished in first grade! Give me the picture I'll make Techs check the tapes again. Tell Martin and Danny to be ready to go, and alert the SWAT team. We're going to need assistance!"

**###**

_Webster's apartment, NY  
18 hour missing_

Jack and Martin, in their Kevlar vests, stood alongside the door as the FBI assault team moved forward to break down the door.

Martin knocked, "FBI! Open up!" Then everything happened in less than a minute. The agents broke the door down. Guns armed, they checked the whole apartment but there were no signs of Webster or of the missing apartment door led directly into the living room.

"Martin, search the bedroom," Jack ordered as he quickly scanned the room. Their training made them take note of everything. Any piece of information could be the one that would give them the answers. Dirty dishes were in the sink in the kitchenette. Leftovers of Chinese food from several days were on the small table leaning against the wall. A worn couch took up the center of the room facing an old television set that was not quite fitting with the high tech workstation just next to it – a 21" flat screen monitor, two laptops, scanner and laser printer. There was also a bookcase, holding mostly DVDs and CDs. Some fishing trophies sat on its top. Copies of _The Fisherman _and an old _TV Guide _lay on the cheap coffee table.

Martin came out of the bedroom, "He was in a hurry to leave. There are empty hangers in the closet, clothes scattered on the floor, and opened drawers with garments hanging out… It's a mess."

"If he kidnapped the girl, he did not bring her here," Jack stated, looking one last time around. There was nothing that could suggest the girl had been kept there. "It would have been too dangerous. We have to check his phone and, above all, his PCs. He has quite a high tech set here."

Danny entered the apartment, still writing on his notepad. "A neighbor, who was washing her windows, saw everything. Webster was in a hurry. He left the van just outside the building. The witness saw 'our man' around 11:30 AM literally running into the building and saw him come out with a travel bag. He took some bills from a big envelope that he kept in the inside pocket of his jacket. Then put the envelope into the travel bag and threw the bag on the back of the van and left. She was sure there was no one else in the van."

"Look for anything useful and then pass everything to NYPD," Jack said. "Make sure our techs check his computers. We must find out what all this is about! Damn! We are always two steps behind. We've lost too much time!"

**###**

_FBI Headquarters, NY  
19 hours missing_

Samantha was at her desk reading through Webster's finances. There were no suspicious money transfers. _How simple it would be if criminals used their credit cards or bank accounts!_ Even knowing who kidnapped the girl, they were not able to understand what happened. When Sam's frustration was going to have the best on her, her cell phone vibrated, announcing she had a new message. It was from Brian. As soon as she selected the read button, a picture of Finn laughing greeted her. She could not help a smile. Brian had taken their son to the park that afternoon. He was trying hard to be a good dad to Finn. Below the picture there was a message – _We miss you. Don't be too late. –_ Her smile quickly faded. _Why didn't Brian understand her job?_He never said much, but she knew by what he didn't say, that he probably thought she loved her job more than she loved their son. _If they were__ going__ to have a lasting relationship, he would have to understand and she had to find the words to make him understand._

Jack's voice brought her back to reality. She pushed her problems to the back of her mind.

"What did you find in his finances?"

He kept approaching until he leaned against her desk. _Even after all the years and all that had happened between them, she still felt something when he was close to her._

"Nothing. And you? Anything useful from the apartment?" Sam said. _She had to push those too familiar feelings away._

"One of his neighbors saw him leaving this morning with a travel bag and he had an envelope full of money. It was around 11:30. There was no sign of the girl," Jack filled her in.

"This case is frustrating… when you find out something, it's always too late! He kidnapped the girl almost twelve hours before his neighbor saw him. If he took the girl and then left almost twelve hours later, where is the girl and where did he get the money? Maybe he sold her to the highest bidder," Samantha said as she rubbed her forehead and sighed.

"Any guess can be right at this point. We have the information, why can't we put this puzzle together?"

"Webster's cell phone won't be any help. It's been dead since yesterday," Samantha stated.

Martin approached them while ending a phone call. "NYPD found Webster's van near Albany. There was a cell phone in it. The van was deserted in a parking lot outside a mall just south of the city. He probably stole a car. Nobody has reported anything so far. If he left New York this morning when his neighbor saw him, and assuming he went straight to Albany, he would have changed the car in the early afternoon. It's almost 6 PM. He could be near or beyond the Canadian border by now."

"We lost him. Let the Police look for him. We have to concentrate on what we know. The girl is still here. We have to find her. What did we know from Webster's website?" Jack pressed as he took note of another dead end. He was losing hope in finding that girl. She had vanished into thin air. Every step done in what they thought was the right direction became quickly a dead end instead.

"The provider gave us about 30 IP addresses that logged in and saw Christine's picture gallery more than once in the last week. Fifteen of them downloaded at least two photos. Among them six live on the West Coast," Martin reported, reading the file he had with him.

An excited Danny interrupted the others who were talking around Sam's desk. "Guys! Techs found something! There has been an auction for this girl. Between 3 and 4 AM, several messages were exchanged on Webster's instant messaging account and it seems he had saved the history. Techs have found four contacts. They're trying to get more from the deleted files."

"Okay, we are only talking about four people. Based on the time line, they must live in the metropolitan New York area. The bidder would only have six or seven hours to get the money, meet Webster for the transfer and for Webster to leave town," Jack said.

"It's more than likely that _'our man'_ was at a public place using a computer or 'piggybacking' someone else's unsecured network connection. It would be really easy to jump on someone else's network. Once we get a lock on the IP address, we'll probably have to start canvassing the area going door to door. It could take days," Sam said.

"What about the cell phone we found in the car?" Jack asked.

Danny filled everyone in on what he knew. "We have the warrant to track Webster's movements following the cell towers that logged his phone. We are waiting for the cell phone company. There is a video of the girl on the cell phone. She is tied up on a bed. She seems fine, but probably Webster drugged her. The video was taken this morning around 6:00. So it was twelve hours ago."

Jack had the profile in his head. He knew what they were facing and knew time was of the essence if they were to find the girl. Usually men like that "enjoyed" the time with the girls and then they killed them. It would have been too dangerous for them to keep the girls alive. Just a little mistake and their perfect lives could be ruined. _And twelve hours was a dangerously long period of time_. Jack looked at the whiteboard, then he grabbed a marker and handed it to Martin. "Fill in the missing time with what we now know. If nothing comes up quickly, we'll have to check these four people one by one- we are going to need NYPD's help."

Danny's phone rang. Techs received the phone logs with the cell towers information. The agents shared a look full of hope. Jack told his agents to call him as soon as a map was marked with every cell tower logged by Webster's cell phone.

**#**

Jack approached the conference table where Martin and Danny were still working on the map. Jack's excitement at the new information was overshadowed by his worry about the amount of time already lost. _What if they were already late?_ They were looking for the movements Webster did during the day. They had lost him by then. _Could it be of any help? _Jack felt it was. _Or did he just want to believe it?_

"Here are Webster's movements." Martin indicated the map of New York state that was displayed on the conference table. Several little red flags signaled which cell tower logged Webster's phone signal. "It's clear he was outside New York. He switched on this phone this morning at 6:00, probably to record the video of Christine we found on it. He was in the Harriman State Park. Then he logged in and used the instant messaging service. He exchanged all messages with the same user."

Danny continued, "We can't know the messages content, but the provider let us know the one he was in contact with. So we can follow its log in and log out. He logged in from a cell phone just once during the morning, but techs could identify the cell phone number. That phone was on just some minutes ago and we tracked it. We got the signal from a cell tower and Tech can tell where he was at or at least close by. Samantha should be here within minutes with the position."

"Good job," Jack acknowledged his team's efforts to find the girl. His mind was already running to organize the girl's rescue. He could not think she could be dead by then.

Samantha arrived shaking a folder. "It's in the Harriman State Park. We have a perimeter of 1.5 miles." She marked the area on the map. "It's here, just east of N87, the area among these three lakes." They finally had something tangible.

"Any ideas on where he could be exactly? It seems the same area in which Webster took the girl after the kidnapping," Jack asked, lifting his eyes from the map and looking at his team.

"Wait!" Samantha sprinted toward her desk and searched through the folders that were on it. "Do you remember the logo on Webster's jacket? It was a fishing club."

"Yeah, Seven Lakes Fishing Club," Danny remembered.

"Its head office is in the Harriman State Park and…," Samantha added as she kept looking through the files. A quick glimpse of triumph lit her face as she took a sheet of paper and joined the others. "Here it is! Webster rented a cabin five years ago on Sebago Lake. And he still has it. Take a look here." She handed Jack the sheet with the data of the lease.

They looked for the lake on the map and realized it was in the right area.

"Okay, let's go. I want two units there and roadblocks on every street on a 10-mile perimeter." Resolution was painted on his face.

###

_Sebago Lake, NY_

The drive was fast - 45 minutes and they were on the site. Police were already there and the roadblocks were in place. The light in the cabin was on. Someone was still there. Nobody had approached the cabin, as Jack had ordered. They had a name - Harold Reynolds. Police found his car hidden in the woods near the cabin.

Everyone already knew what his role would be. The SWAT team was ready. Martin and Samantha took the back of the cabin, while Jack and Danny took the front with the SWAT unit. They armed their guns. Adrenaline was pumping into their veins. Every sense was on alert. That scene was not new to them, but every time was different. At the agreed signal they broke in.

"FBI, freeze!" Heavy steps and voices were mixed. "Down! On the floor!"

"Freeze!"

Reynolds was taken by surprise. He was coming out from the bathroom. Danny and Martin handcuffed him. Samantha passed by, glancing at the man with disgust. She approached Jack, who was in front of a closed door. His hand was on the doorknob. He hesitated just a fraction of time, but it was enough to make Sam understand she had to go in alone. If she didn't know him so well, she would never see his short hesitation_. Jack did not need another Jen Long._ _Not then, with his relationship with Hanna still on a roller coaster. _

Samantha gently grabbed Jack's arm to stop him. "Let me take care of her alone for a minute. I don't think seeing another man is what she needs now."

"Okay, I'll call paramedics."

Samantha entered the room and found Christine sitting on the floor in a corner. Her hands were tied up behind her back and duct tape was on her mouth. She was crying, but her eyes were full of hate. Samantha approached her slowly.

"I'm with the FBI. We arrested him. You're safe. I'll take the tape off, okay? It will hurt a little."

Christine started crying and leaned her head on Sam's shoulder.

#

Outside the cabin Danny and Martin were putting Reynolds in the car.

"Bring him to the police station and be sure he is treated like he deserves," Jack ordered. Then, turning toward the paramedics, who were carrying Christine on a stretcher to the ambulance, he asked, "Where are you taking her?"

"Saint Anthony Community Hospital. It's the nearest ER."

"Okay."

"Jack, I'll run to the hospital with her. See you there," Sam said and climbed into the ambulance.

Jack nodded as he saw the ambulance leave. He dialed his phone and walked toward his car. Christine's parents were waiting for his call.

**###**

"Everything went well," Sam stated, getting in the car. She caught a glimpse of Jack's frowning expression.

"_Well_?" Jack said, doubtfully looking at her. Jen Long was still fresh on his mind.

"This afternoon I feared we would find her dead or never find her. Now she's here, with her parents. She had a very hard time, but she will be able to face what will happen. She talked to me, Jack. The fighter in her was still strong."

"I guess I have to trust you on this."

"Yeah, you should." She grinned.

Jack was going to turn the ignition, but then stopped. "I still haven't thanked you. You talked to Hanna, didn't you?"

Sam smiled. She turned toward her boss biting her lip and nodded, "You're welcome."

"I really don't know how to behave with her. She would be better off with her mother," Jack said, looking without focusing through the window.

"Don't say that. It's not what you really think."

"No? Maybe you're right. But I'm running out of ideas," Jack said as he turned to look at Sam.

"Jack, get a pizza and rent a movie. Stay with her. And don't hide; she knows it's all new to you."

"Why doesn't she understand I can't take responsibility for Shay? I don't need another kid to raise."

"She's a teenager in love." Sam smiled. "Have you thought about what I told you?" Seeing the confusion on Jack's face, she clarified, "About the trip together."

"Yeah, but do you think she'd like to come now?"

"You should take Shay along. It would be only for a week or so, right? You'll survive!"

Jack, displaying his well known sarcastic look, replied, "Yeah, I'll survive… I'm not sure about anyone else."

"What an optimist you are!" Samantha smiled. "Get off her back, Jack. You have to trust her. At least until she does something wrong." She smiled and her hand leaned on Jack's arm. He looked at her warm eyes. _Hanna was right, Sam was 'his personal whisperer'_. He was going to reply when Sam's cell phone rang. Jack smiled, slowly shaking his head. It was déjà vu, but this time it wasn't Maria interrupting _him_, it was Brian calling _her_. Samantha smiled, too, as she read the ID on the phone. With Sam's phone ringing in the background, they looked at each other and burst into laughter as the tension of the day slowly faded away.


	16. Interlude Three

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but this has been very hard to write. It's a bit different from what I've written before, I hope you like it. Thanks to Sharon and Diane, as always- without you I wouldn't have the courage to post my stories... ;) Thanks girls!

**INTERLUDE III**

**Vivian**

It was a lovely late May Saturday morning and Vivian was driving upstate. She had left New York early to avoid as much traffic as possible. New Yorkers were always enticed by a weekend in the country. She had left the I-87 half an hour before and was now driving on a secondary road to Helmut College. She was admiring the landscape: spring with its vivacious colors was in full blossom. The trees were rich of leaves and there were buttercups along both sides of the road. She found a nice radio station where the DJ had to be her age. She sang or whistled, when she didn't know the words, following the lead of the music, leaning back comfortably in her seat with her hands resting lightly enough on the wheel to keep the car steady. Vivian felt free and happy. She was enjoying the drive like she hadn't done since her senior year at college, when a weekend a month she would drive in her brother's car the same way to the college where Marcus was studying for his bachelor degree.

She wanted to surprise Marcus, spend a couple of days alone with him, maybe go for a short trip and stay at one of those nice 'bed and breakfasts' in the countryside. He couldn't make it home for Memorial Day weekend, as he had to grade final tests, so she had spent the holiday with Reggie and her brother's family. Her husband had taught a spring course at Helmut College and they had asked him to stay also for a summer course for the high school students. She was proud of him.

Vivian arrived at Marcus' apartment. It was a nice apartment in a two-story house, part of the university's facilities. She had already been there another time. A smile rose on her lips as she walked up the stairs to the front door. She knocked but nobody answered, so she tried again with no result. She looked around to see if she could let herself in, but there were no keys anywhere. Could he be still in his office? On Saturday morning? Knowing her husband, it could very well be. She cursed herself because she didn't let him know. And what if he was out for lunch? Maybe at a colleague's? She rummaged in her purse for the phone and found that it was dead. She had forgotten the car-charger in the office.

She went to the backyard. The door wasn't locked. If Marcus wasn't at home, he would hear a severe reprimand from her. Vivian looked around surprised. The kitchen was a mess. Something was still cooking in the oven. It was so not like Marcus. She entered the dining room and found the table set for two. Did Reggie tell him she was coming? That boy can't keep a secret! She called for him and when she reached the bedroom, she heard water coming from the shower. The door was ajar. What a better way to surprise him? She dropped her bag and slid off her jacket. There was a naughty grin on her face. She pushed the door open and the scene in front of her took away her breath. She couldn't believe to her eyes.

"_Marcus_?" Shock and utter incredulity were mixed in her voice.

The couple in the shower suddenly stopped. The man turned toward the door, his eyes both wide and guilty. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Vivian left the room and quickly went toward the front door. It was a nightmare! It couldn't be true. She had her hand on the doorknob when his fast steps reached her.

"Vivian, wait. Viv, please!" he was begging her.

"Don't say anything. I don't want to hear a word from you. You can only make things worse. And don't mind coming home, I won't be there," she said as she looked directly at him. Then she opened the door and left. Marcus knew when he had to step back. Vivian had to cool down before she could talk to him.

As she drove the familiar road home, memories of her past trips to visit Marcus kept flowing even as she tried to get them out of her mind. She had never thought that the sense of betrayal could be so deep. She was upset , but above all she was angry. Angry with Marcus, angry with that slut he was screwing, and, as she was approaching home, she started to get angry also with herself.

She arrived at home and fumbled with the key to open the door. She needed a shower. She couldn't believe how twenty seconds could change everything. She undressed as she hurried to the bathroom. She did not want to think. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water soothe her. She closed her eyes as she passed her hands through her hair and bent her head back to get the water directly on her face. She stayed there until water mixed with tears ran down her body.

#

Vivian was alone in the office. There was no new case and everyone was enjoying the Sunday away from work. She just couldn't stand the silence at home. Everything reminded her of Marcus and '_that scene' _flashed her mind again. Vivian shook her head. She wanted a scotch, but would have to settle for coffee. The caffeine would help her to keep focus. As she walked down the corridor to the breakroom, the elevator doors slid open. Vivian heard a woman's footsteps approaching. _Please, anyone but her! _She knew Samantha would know something was wrong. She sighed and went back to the bullpen where a busy blonde welcomed her.

"Hey, Viv. What are you doing here? Wasn't it your free weekend?" Sam asked as she collected a few files from a pile on her desk.

"Change of plans," Vivian casually answered.

"Had enough of Marcus already?" Sam joked. She lifted her head and could not help but notice Vivian's reaction. _She obviously hit a nerve._ Something happened between Vivian and her husband. And it wasn't a fight over silly things. Vivian was hurt. "Viv? Is everything okay?"

"Perfect," Vivian replied as she sipped her coffee.

"Brian took Finn to the zoo and I'm a _free _woman for a couple of hours. What about a coffee with cream outside? It's a wonderful day," Samantha tentatively asked.

"I think I'm already over my allowed number of coffees today," Vivian said as she showed her best forced smile.

"I suppose I'll have to work then." Sam smiled and sat at her desk. She was going to bring the files home, but she could just as well work at the office for a couple of hours and if Vivian didn't open up by then, she would call Brian and go home with them.

As Vivian sat at her desk, her cell phone rang. She disconnected the call before the second ring. Vivian cursed her job because she couldn't switch off her phone. She was hoping Marcus would understand and give her time. She wasn't ready. She had to think before talking with him.

Vivian had always looked at a man and a woman having an affair as weakness. It happened a lot of times in her job and she tried hard not be judgmental, but although she knew there were many reasons for it, it was still wrong when one of the parties was married. Her job had taught her to ask what was wrong with the wife that caused her husband to roam, or the other way around. Now, _she was the wife_. What did she do to make Marcus do this? The phone rang again. She repeated the same action as she did the previous four times and heavily sighed.

"Viv? Are you okay?" Sam's caring voice reminded Vivian that she wasn't alone in the office anymore.

"No, I'm not okay at all." Vivian sighed again. "I was going to tell you to mind your own business, but maybe I need to talk to someone," Vivian said as she rolled the chair to the conference table and took a deep breath to calm down. She knew Samantha had stayed at the office because of her and she knew that sooner or later she would try to make her open up. Why didn't she take the chance Sam was offering? Samantha would be a good listener. Vivian was sure the next day she wouldn't be the office gossip.

"What's up? You're worrying me," Samantha said as she joined her colleague at the table.

"I wanted to surprise Marcus, but I was the one who got a surprise. I found my husband screwing some stupid girl in the shower. So much for a surprise. I'm so angry!" Vivian said as she got up and walked toward the windows. _What was Marcus thinking? How could she ever trust him again? Did that girl realize he was a married man? She was having an affair with her husband! Why couldn't these girls go after people their age? What did they teach in college nowadays? 'How to steal a husband'?_

"I'm sorry, Viv," Samantha said, following Vivian with her look. She could see her friend's inner turmoil.

"I know things like this can happen to everyone, but I never thought it could happen to_ me_," Vivian said as she turned toward her colleague. She had listened to some of her friends venting about their husbands cheating on them and she had always felt lucky to have a good relationship with her husband. She had listened to them wondering what type of woman could go after a married man. A _slut_, that had been their best conclusion. Vivian took back her focus on Samantha, and as if she suddenly recognized who was in front of her, Vivian realized Sam had been _one of them_. "You have to help me understand. You owe it to me."

"Excuse me?" Samantha asked taken aback by Vivian's word.

"When you had the affair with Jack, I never said anything. I took your part with Jack and blamed him for everything." Vivian said. She had known Jack for many years and she knew he had problems at home. Samantha was there-young, available, tough on the outside but vulnerable. It was just a matter of time. _Samantha was perfect for Jack Malon_e… _Had it been the same for her husband? There weren't problems between them… it was just that little slut! _Suddenly Vivian felt compassion for Maria. Her voice became harsh, her tone accusing. "Did you realize there was another woman at home waiting for the man you were sleeping with? He had two little girls who never saw him because of the late nights at the office spent with you."

Through it all, Sam stood shocked. She didn't understand what she owed to Viv. _Her silence? Her support?_ She really didn't remember any hands reaching out to her while she was 'drowning'. She had felt a sort of '_you made the bed, now sleep in it'_ vibe instead. Sure thing, Vivian realized Jack and Samantha were in dangerous territory well before they started the affair. Vivian's looks had made her realize she wasn't imagining things with Jack. Why did she have to go through everything again? Obviously she knew Jack had a wife at home. It was hard to forget when she called every two hours. But Sam doubted that Vivian wanted to hear that. She couldn't explain what existed between Jack and her. Viv wouldn't understand. It wasn't just a fling. She definitely knew the difference. She'd like to tell her how it was when, after a day spent with Jack at work and a few more hours spent letting him drag you in his dark depths because of his ever existing guilt, you had to see him get dressed and go to his wife to whom he didn't even _talk_ anymore. Left alone in the bed where he tried to find an escape, knowing that the next time would be even harder to let him go. She seriously doubted that _Marcus' college girl_ felt that. Marcus was not Jack; he couldn't poison your soul just because you had tried to get to know him and he had let you in for a reason still unknown. Maybe just _because he had a thing for blonds_. _Should she tell Vivian this?_

"Let's not go there, please. Are you really sure you want to know what I felt? It wasn't nice. And it still hurts," Sam said with firm voice. She didn't want to talk about that. Vivian wouldn't understand.

"It helps to know you weren't happy," Vivian replied.

Samantha smiled sarcastically at Vivian's words. She breathed deeply. She was going to let it go, but something inside her made her act otherwise. She wet her lips and, slowly shaking her head, said, "You know, Viv, you always set very high standards and maybe you expected too much from your husband." As soon as the words left her mouth, Sam realized her mistake. She had been carried away. She looked at Viv, concerned about her reaction. She shouldn't have said that, but she felt as Viv was attacking her.

Vivian was speechless. There was something true in Samantha's words. She had avoided her inner voice for too long. She had to see that coming. They had slowly slipped apart.

"I'm sorry, Viv. I didn't mean it," Samantha said, feeling guilty. Vivian didn't need that.

"Have you ever talked about Maria?" _What was she thinking? Obviously there were problems, or he wouldn't have gone to look for another woman. What could that girl offer him she couldn't?_

"Viv…"

"Please," Vivian said.

Vivian's firm reply convinced Sam to answer. "Not directly and Jack didn't talk much about anything other than work. It's not our affair that destroyed his marriage. They had already done a pretty good job by themselves. I never saw him as a married man. He was alone. I saw the ring, but he seemed wearing it more out of habit than anything else. I never asked him to take it off and he never did. I knew we weren't going anywhere, but I needed him. And he needed me."

"What does it mean '_he needed me_'?" Vivian asked.

"What do you want to hear? That he didn't get any at home? I can't help you, I never asked. I'm sure he didn't talk to Maria and he was near a breaking point." Sam wondered if what Jack had ever needed was her physical comfort. After all he always reached to her when he was lost. Had it ever been something more than that? Was that the reason why _they couldn't make it work_?

"So, was it only Maria's fault?" Vivian asked, returning Sam to the subject.

"No. You know Jack, it's hard to be close to him. He keeps pushing everyone away. But Marcus is not Jack. Maybe they just got drunk the night before. Maybe it's a one-night thing. It happens even to the best men," Samantha guessed.

"It was late morning and in the shower."

"Okay. Maybe she's just a girl who enjoys herself seducing professors," Sam tried again.

"Yeah, or maybe Marcus just looked for something I didn't have any more-attention and time for him," Vivian said.

"Viv, don't beat yourself up. This job is hard; it takes a lot from us, but you have always managed. You are the proof that _it_ can work, that we have a chance. Don't let what happened to Jack and me influence you. Jack and Maria's relationship was different from yours and Marcus. You know that."

_Really? Was it different?_ She had the same high-pressure time-consuming job as Jack. She spent many hours away from her husband and son. "I'm not so sure anymore. The result seems the same," Vivian replied.

"I doubt it," Sam said. The words slipped out with thinking. It couldn't be the same. Marcus was not Jack and Vivian was not Maria.

"What?"

"You don't even know if it is really an affair. Marcus is a man and if that girl threw herself at him, he may have been tempted. Girls today can be very persuasive. And you know how men are 'easy' instead. I can't believe Marcus can do something like this to you, Viv. I can't.

I'm not the person best qualified to talk about this, but I know you and Marcus and you shouldn't let it destroy your marriage so easily. You love him, don't you?"

"It's like a dream, a bad dream. If I love him? I don't know. I can't feel anything other than anger and disappointment right now."

Samantha smiled and pressed her hand on Vivian's arm. "You love him, I know that."

"What happened to you? Weren't you the 'divorce-happy' woman?" Vivian asked as she lifted her eyebrows.

"I was young." Sam smiled and continued, "I know it hurts, but at least try to understand if it's serious. Viv, Marcus loves you. Everyone can see it when you're together. I'm not saying it will be easy, but at least let him explain."

"The point is that with Reggie away I thought we would spend more 'quality time' alone. But if I wasn't stuck with a case, he had a conference in Connecticut. Then he spent six months at Helmut College. Don't misunderstand me, I'm proud of him, it's great for his career, but we saw each other once or twice a month. I missed him."

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"No. I'm still too angry. I'm afraid I'd say something I could regret."

"What are you going to do now? I think you should answer his next phone call. Don't let him have the chance to go looking for comfort from her. Even if you're angry, use your power. You're his wife."

"Are you talking from experience?" Viv asked.

Sam smiled as she lightly raised her eyebrows and said, "What you have with Marcus is good. And you're not Jack. Women can do anything they want if they believe in it."

Sam's phone rang. It was Brian. She told him to wait for her at the subway. She would be there in a few minutes.

Vivian watched the scene and couldn't help a smile. She had known Samantha for more than ten years, but she kept surprising her. There was something about her she would never understand. She said goodbye to her and went back to her files. Talking had helped her.

Vivian's cell phone rang. She hesitated a moment and then answered. She listened to Marcus' plea, then simply said, "Yes, we have to talk."


End file.
